


Gummy Bears and Chocolate Chip Cookies

by carc19



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Multiple Pov, Single Parent AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5179460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carc19/pseuds/carc19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla loses her son, Timothy, while grocery shopping and Laura's the one that finds him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gummy Bears and Chocolate Chip Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, so I really don't know if it's any good at all, but I wanted to share it with you guys. So, here we go. Hope you enjoy!

It’s Friday.

You’ve been here since 8 AM and you just want the day to end. You really love your job, that’s not even a question. You never thought you’d end up teaching though, after all the shit you gave your teachers in high school and how you couldn’t fucking wait to graduate so you’d be able to get out of there. You feel like you can bring something to your students, what you would have needed back then. Someone to help, someone who won’t judge. At the very least you hope you’re that person, and that they know you’re there to lend a hand.

But on Fridays, you just want the day to end as quickly as possible. You’ve been working all week, you’re tired and the weekend is just out of reach. You want to go home, cuddle with your son and not stress about anything, especially not work related.

You’re sitting at your desk, watching the clock on the opposite wall tick, as each second pass by. You drag your eyes away from it to look at your class. They have been talking among themselves since they finished the assignment you gave at the beginning of the class. They know your system; they do whatever exercises or reading you tell them to when the period starts and they can do what they want once they’re done, as long as they don’t disturb the rest of the class.

The bell that announces the end of the day finally rings and you’re as much in a hurry to pack up your things to leave as your students. You just slung your messenger bag on your shoulder and picked up your empty travel mug, when you see someone coming towards your desk with your peripheral vision and hear them calling for you.

“Ms. Karnstein?”

You let out a small sigh because you had hoped none of your student would do that today. To tell the truth you don’t always get your students. They have the whole class to come and ask you questions that you will be happy to answer, but there’s pretty much always one of them that will wait until the class is over to come see you.

The question has to do with the essay you assigned them that isn’t due for two weeks. You try not to seem rude while answering, because you’re kind of in a rush to be done with this and get out of here as soon as possible. You answer them in less than five minutes and tell them if that have any other questions, they can drop by your office on Monday. They wish you a great weekend and you’re both on your way.

You’re now on your way to get Timothy at day care. After you pick him up, you guys need to go grocery shopping to make sure you’ll survive the weekend and the coming week. You’re almost certain that when you checked this morning, the only things remaining in the fridge were three eggs, a few slices of cheese, orange juice and an empty milk container. You think Tim’s the one that finished it this time around, which means he’s picking some of your bad habits, you don’t really mind though.

Once you’re done at the store, it’s going to be time for your weekly movie night, which means relaxing on the couch with Timmy and the dog. If you’re being honest it’s probably you’re favorite thing in the world.

You arrive at Tim’s day care and go out back to find him outside in the playground, in the middle of a game with other children. Not wanting to interrupt, you stay there for a few seconds, watching him interact with the other kids. Less than thirty seconds later, he looks up and his brown eyes fall directly on you, and you can tell the exact moment his brain registers you’re there, because his eyes light up and he begins to run towards you. You just have the time to crouch down and open your arms, before his small body collides with you. You close your arms around him and pull him even closer, while you bury your nose in his curly brown hair. He smells like home.

You let him go and he backs up a bit, you’re now able to look into is excited eyes and see the huge smile plastered on his face.

“How was your day?” You ask, with a smile just as big on your face.

“It was great! We all got to go to the park today, and we played soccer, I even made a goal! After that, we came back here and we ate mac ‘n’ cheese for lunch. And, I wasn’t able to sleep when it was nap time, so I read a book instead. All on my own!” He looks so proud, you can’t help the feeling of warmth filling your chest.

“Well, that does sound like a great day to me. That might explain the giant smile on your face.” You say, while you poke his cheek, making a bubbly laugh escape his mouth.

“Mom! I always smile when I’m happy and I’m happy pretty much all the time, it’s nothing new!”

“That’s a good thing to know.” You say. “Are you ready to go? We have to stop by the grocery store on our way home, otherwise we'll both have nothing to eat for dinner.”

“I just need to go pick up my bag and then we’ll be ready to roll!” He answers you, and you can’t help but laugh at the expression.

You get his bag and wish the woman watching the remaining kids a great weekend on your way out. You both buckle up once you’re in the car and you start playing a game with him to try to come up with a list of all the food you’ll need to buy.

Ten minutes later, you enter the store holding Tim’s hand and he lets go as soon as he see the row of shopping cart. He goes running towards the nearest one, and tries to navigate it back to you, only half seeing where he’s going and almost hitting someone in the process.

Once he’s back at your side, you put your hands near his, on the bar, to help him push the cart to the vegetable section, the first place you need to go, on what Tim likes to call, your grocery store adventure! You ask him to help you remember the list of vegetables you talked about getting, when you were still in the car and he also helps you choose which one looks good or bad.

“Mom?” he says while you’re picking some apples.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

“Since it’s Friday, and that means it’s movie night later and you don’t have to work tomorrow and I don’t have to go to day care, could I, maybe get a treat? Please!” He says with his sweetest voice.

“Sure, buddy!” You answer. “After the week we’ve had, I think we could both use a bit of artificial sugar in our body. We need to save it for the movie, though. By the way, it’s your turn to choose what we’ll watch tonight, do you have any ideas? I just hope the force is strong with this one.” You say while turning around, smiling and quoting the movie you watch last week.

You turn around to face your son, while making a knot in the plastic bag, now filled with apples, to find an empty space where he was still holding the cart, only a few minutes ago. You turn around quickly to see if he’s not behind you, because he sometimes likes to pull jokes on you. He’s still not there. You start to look all around you and when you can’t see him anywhere, you feel panic start to take over and your heartbeat spiking up instantly.

\----------

As soon as your mom gives you permission to get a treat, you’re on your way to accomplish your newest mission: finding where the Gummy Bears are. You walk through five isles, doing your best to look on both side at the same time to make sure you don’t miss the candies by mistake, before you finally see them. The only problem is, they’re on a hook much too high for you to reach.

You decide to climb on the shelves closest to the candy. If you can get high enough, you’ll be able to take one of the bags, or at least, make it fall on the floor. You’re able to get on the third shelf, the candies now at the same level as your eye sight. You extend your left arm, so you’re able to pick them up, but just as your hand is about to close around it, your hand that is still gripping the shelf above you slips. Your eyes widen, in surprise and fear, as you feel yourself starting to fall. You try to reach for something in a last attempt, but instead you bring a few boxes of cookies down with you.

You’re sitting on the floor, glaring at the bag of candy still swaying slightly from your _almost_ successful attempt. You hear footsteps coming closer and you look up at the same time as a woman with honey blond hair and worried brown eyes crouch down beside you.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” You answer.

“What happened?”

You take a deep breath before you start to ramble trying to explain to her how you got there. “Mom gave me permission to get a treat because it’s Movie Night Friday and I didn’t complain this week, so I started looking for Gummy Bears because they’re my favorite, but when I found them, I wasn’t tall enough to reach them, and then I decided to climb on the shelves so it would be easier to get them, and I was this close to touching the bag,” you show her two of your fingers almost touching, squinting at them, trying to look at the space between the fingers, “but then, I slipped and fell back on the floor.” You finish and take another breath.

She looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Well, that’s…quite a story you got there. If you did all that for a bag of candy, I’m pretty sure you deserve to have it.” She gets back up and extend a hand in front of you to help you up. You take it and you’re pulled back on your feet. “Besides, I know what it’s like to be short, buddy, I’m happy to help you with that.” She grabs a pack of Gummy Bears and hands it to you smiling.

You flash her your most charming smile, the one even your mom can’t resist, extend your hand before her and say “I’m Timothy, but all my friends call me Tim. You can call me Tim if you want. What’s your name?” She laughs and shakes your small hand, answering “Laura. My name is Laura.” You both look back down at the mess of cookie boxes still at your feet.

“Hey, Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about us putting those boxes back on the shelf and then getting you back to your mother?”

“Sure! That sounds good.”

You pick up the first box and give it to Laura, so she can place it on the shelf. When you give her the last one, instead of putting it back with the others, she drops it in the shopping basket hanging in the crook of her arm. You look up at her with your brow furrowed. She looks at you with wide eyes. “What? Chocolate chips are my favorite, that’s actually why I was here in the first place!”

“You only have junk food in your basket! Mom wouldn’t be happy if that were the only things I bought when I went to the grocery store.”

“Yeah, well, if my dad knew what I eat every week, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t approve either.” she says looking a bit guilty. “Anyway, I think it’s time we find your mom, bud.”

“Last time I saw her, she was in front of the apple stand.” You tell Laura, while grabbing her hand and dragging her behind you. “We can get you some fruits and vegetables when we’re there so you have something healthy to eat!”

You see the stand you were at earlier with your mom, but don’t see her anywhere near. You begin to walk even faster, dropping Laura’s hand, and stop right in front of it. You look all around you, but you don’t see anyone looking even a little like her. You feel your heart starting to beat very fast and you begin to have trouble breathing. You feel someone turning you around and hands on your shoulders. Laura’s kneeled in front of you, you look in her eyes while you hear her talking to you, the combination of her soft gaze and her voice calming you down a bit.

“Tim? Timothy, I need you to listen to me right now, okay?” You give her a little nod. “We’re going to find your mom, okay? I promise we’ll find her, and I’m staying with you until then, no matter what.” You nod again and you see her face light up, as she gives you a small smile. “How about we turn this into a game?” You tilt your head a little, waiting for her to continue. “Since you’re probably too small to see far in front of you with all the people in here and I don’t know what your mother looks like, I can put you on my shoulders, that way you’ll be able to see over most people, even better than I do, and you’ll have a much better view. And while we’re looking for her, you can tell me what she looks like, so I can try to help you spot her!”

You give her a big, toothy smile, before you wrap your arms around her neck to give her a hug. “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had!” you scream in her ear. You feel her hesitate a second, before she puts her arms around you, to hug you back. “It’s not like you have a long list to compare it to.” She says softly.

You let her go and look at her expectantly, waiting for her to pick you up and put you on her shoulders. “Right. Right!” she says. She grabs you under your arms and she settles you on her back, in no time. She picks her shopping basket back up, before raising to her full size. You grip her forehead to make sure you won’t fall.

“Ouch! Ouch! Tim, one of your finger is in my eye, right now.”

“Oups.” You shift your hands a little, so you’re not hurting Laura anymore. “Sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it, bud. How about you start telling me what your mom looks like while we’re walking around.”

“Sure, Laur!” you answer.

\----------

_Laur_. The nickname surprise you a little, but you don’t really mind. You figure that Timothy took the liberty to assign you a nickname since he gave you permission to use his, and it’s only fair for him to give you one in return. You start walking without any real direction in mind and Tim starts talking.

“Mom’s hair are a bit darker than mine, they’re a bit wavy too. Oh, and they are longer than mine, but shorter than yours, they go a bit pass her shoulders.” You look around, trying to find someone matching his description. You point out a woman to him, but he shakes his head telling you it’s not her.

“I might need a little more information than that, so I have a better idea of what she looks like, bud. Do you remember what clothes she was wearing today?”

“I think so.” He answers. “She was wearing her favorite pair of jeans, they’re black and they have holes at the knees because they're pretty much always the ones she wears to play with me.”

You feel him let go of your forehead and you automatically reach for one of his legs to make sure he doesn’t fall. He puts an arm loosely around your throat and his free hand points at the shoe on his slightly lifted foot.

“She had her black converse on, just like mine, she says they’re her most comfortable pair of shoes, and she sometimes have to stay standing up for a long time, so she doesn’t want her feet to hurt, that’s why she always wear them to work.”

You try to put together the different bits of information Timothy gave you about his mom, to figure out what kind of job she has that needs her to stay on her feet for most of the day. You don’t know why, but for some reason, your brain seems to have trouble coming up with anything.

“What does your mom do for a living?” You ask.

“She works in a high school, and she prefers to stay up while she teaches, she says it’s easier to keep her class interested that way. Do _you_ have a job?”

“Yeah, I do. To put it simply, I mostly fix computers and electronics when people aren’t able to do it themselves.”

You start to spin around slowly and ask Tim if he sees his mother anywhere, since he seems to have forgotten to look for her while he was talking. After your unsuccessful 360, you start to make your way towards the isles.

“She was also wearing a white t-shirt and her leather jacket.” He continues. “She’s grumpy when she wakes up in the morning and she smells like books and coffee and lilacs.”

You smile because the last part of his description really wasn’t necessary and won’t be of any help to find her. You feel your heart swell a little though, hearing him talk about her. You can only imagine the love he has for her and you’re more than sure she loves him just as much, if not more. You know you would. He has pretty much already won you over, in less than an hour.

You begin to worry about her more than you do about Timothy, as you realise how freaked out she must be, not being able to find her son anywhere and not having anyone to reassure her that everything would be find, just like you did for Timothy. You know your dad want nuts the one time he lost you in a store, and you considered it has one of the most normal reaction he had in his life as a parent.

You feel Tim begin to sag on your shoulders and his cheek rest on the top of your head. You reach for his leg once again, to make sure he won’t fall off if he falls asleep, even though his arms are still around your neck.

You turn in the isle where you both met earlier, and you spot a woman almost jogging and looking around frantically a bit further down from you. Leather jacket, check! Black jeans, check! Converse, check! Wild, wavy brown hair, also check! You shrug your shoulders a little to get Tim’s attention and call out his name softly. He lifts his cheek from your head, puts his chin on top of your hair instead and hums to let you know he’s listening.

You point the woman for him to see. “Is it her?”

He immediately perks up and scream “Mom!”

You’ve never seen someone turn around so fast in your life. You see her worried expression morph into one of relief the moment her eyes fall on him. You feel Tim’s heels poking you in his excitement to get down and you hear him say, “You can put me down now, Laur. We found her!”

You stay frozen for a few seconds, your eyes glued to her face while she comes running towards the both of you. She’s definitely not what you expected from Timothy’s description. Frankly, you didn’t think she would be this young and certainly not this beautiful. She’s sharp features, pale skin and dark eyes. You can definitely tell Tim’s related to her though. You crouch down to let him get off your shoulders, just as she reaches you.

He runs into her and she almost falls to the floor from the force of it. She squeezes him tightly to her chest with her eyes closed and you see her bury her nose in his dark curls and take a deep breath. They stay like that for a couple of seconds she then opens her eyes and you can see a mix of worry and anger in them.

“Timothy William Karnstein! Where _were_ you!? One minute you were right beside me and the next you were gone! How many times do I tell you to stay by my side when we’re out! I didn’t know where you were! I started looking around for you and I couldn’t find you and I was beginning to think something might have happen to you and I’d lost you for good…” she trails off. You can see how truly panicked and stressed she had been at the idea of not finding him, and your heart hurts imagining how she must have felt.

“I’m sorry Mommy,” Tim says, looking at his feet and twisting his hands, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought I’d lost you too. But then…” He looks up to his mom with a smile, turns around and walks towards you. He grabs one of your hand and drags you behind him, while he walks back to his mother. “Laura was there! She told me that it would be okay and we’d find you! She helped me look all around the store for you. And she also helped with the Gummy Bears!” he says, picking up the bag of candy that ended up in your basket, at some point, and showing it to her proudly.

You look up, her piercing gaze fixed on you, seeming to size you up. You swallow hard, she might not be imposing physically, but her presence and the energy she gives off make up for it. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so small in your whole life. As you're having those thoughts, you see her shoulders relax a little. Her eyes travel from you to Timothy a few times, before softening. She looks down while she trails a hand through her messy hair, before exhaling and looking back up at you, extending her hand.

“I’m Carmilla.” She says while you shake her hand hesitantly. “Laura.” You answer. She smirks at you and chuckles softly. “I already know that, sweetheart.” You look at her, your expression a mix of shock and confusion. You see a small smile form on her lips, before she shakes her head a little. You feel something tug in your stomach, but you don’t know why, exactly. “Timmy told me your name earlier, cutie, remember?”

You feel your face starting to get hot and you really want to bury it in your hands, right now. You’re still looking at her embarrassed and you see her face change from playful to serious.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes, now soft and sincere, “for helping Timothy. You didn’t have to do that. Just know that it’s very much appreciated. We’re lucky you were there.”

You don’t really know what happens to your brain, but you hear yourself say, “Maybe I'm the lucky one.” You feel your eyes widen with the realisation of what you just said because, one, that line is so cheesy, and two, it’s maybe a little inappropriate. Let’s be real for a second, you don’t actually know anything about them, you just met. On top of that, they seem like quite a catch, which mean they’re probably not ‘available’. They most likely have someone waiting for them at home, you think, even though Timothy never mentioned having a dad or another mom. She probably has a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a, a…someone! And even if she didn’t, what makes you think you’d have a chance. You’re a dork.

You cast your eyes down and see Tim with a bright smile tugging on Carmilla’s hand, trying to get his mother’s attention.

“Mom?” he says. “Can we finish picking up the food we need, because we still need a lot of things and we need to go back in the fruit section to help Laura choose some, otherwise her dad’s going to be mad at her.”

She looks up at you once again, with an amused smile on her face, and you feel yourself blush harder.

“Mind telling me what that’s all about, Cupcake?”

“Not really.” You answer with your face hidden in your hands.

“What do you say, we start by helping Laura out, Love? That way, when she’s done, she won’t have to wait for us, before checking out and going back to her house.” She says.

“That’s really unnecessary,” you start to interject, at the same time as Tim takes your hand and drags you back once again to the apple stand.

“You’ll see Laur,” he says, “it’s really not that hard, you just have to find some fruits that you like. And maybe, once we’re done here, you could come to our house and watch the movie with us.”

“Oh, I don’t think…” you start.

“Or, you know, if you can’t tonight that’s alright, you can always come some other time, since we have a movie night every Friday. I’d even share my Gummy Bears with you! Please, Laura!”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to disappoint him, you really like the little guy, he’s a sweet kid, but it’s not like the decision is really yours to make. You look back at Carmilla, who’s already looking at you with a shy smile and an expectant look.

“I think we might like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you want to let me know what you think of it. It's always awesome to have feedback on your work, as reference in the future. If you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to let me know, I might not be so bad in English, but it's still not my first language.


	2. Broken Computers and Coloured Pencils

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably not what you guys were waiting for, but it's what I got for now. This chapter is only from Carmilla's POV. Hope you enjoy it!

It’s been three weeks.

Laura never came to movie night that Friday. She already had something work related and there was no way she’d be able to get out of it. Her absence the last two Fridays were on you, though. You never did get her number, not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you were so caught up with everything that had happened, you never actually thought about asking for it.

After you finished helping her pick up some food containing more than just empty calories (yes, you did in fact do that), the three of you parted. She went to the counter to pay for her stuff, while you and Timothy gathered the rest of the things you needed. It was only once you were at the checkout that you realized, you had completely forgotten to exchange contact information with her. Ever since that missed opportunity, you’ve been a bit grumpier than usual.

It’s Friday again, and you and Timmy are both getting ready to go to work. You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, Tim swinging his legs back and forthsince he’s too short to reach the stool’s bar with the dog laying at his feet. You’re both eating your bowls of Frosted Flakes and taking occasional sips from your respective mugs, coffee for you and hot chocolate for him, while Tim hums a song softly to himself.

You’ve been bringing Timothy to school with you every few weeks, since the beginning of October, both your son and students have gotten used to it by now. The first time you brought him, your students were still unaware that you had a kid. So, when they entered your classroom that day, they all stared at Tim the same way they would if they were facing some alien. He was sitting in your chair, with the desk at the same level as his chin, reading one of his books, (or what you’d qualify more as looking at images and recognising a few words here and there), while you were writing what you had planned for the day’s period on the board. You could hear your students, quieter than they usually were, whispering to one another, trying to figure out who was the little boy sitting in front of the class and the reason he was there.

The bell announcing the start of the period rings, and they all fall silent when you put the chalk down on the tray. You rub your hands together to remove the white dust covering them, while turning around to face the teenagers. You look at your class, their eyes bouncing from you to Timothy. You decide you might as well start the class and answer some of the questions going around in their heads right now, since you won’t be able to have their attention otherwise.

“Good morning.” You start, but before you can say anything else, one of the jocks at the back of the class cuts you off. “Are you babysitting for someone today, Ms. K? Who’s the kid?” he says.

You see Timothy lift his head from his book to look at you when he’s mentioned, waiting for you to answer. You smile over at him, and gesture for him to join you at the front of the room. He closes his book quickly, jumping down from the chair and making it spin in his haste.

“To answer your question Jordan, this is Timothy!” You say once he’s next to you, as you hug him from behind, and place a kiss on his cheek, making him smile and chuckle, “And I’m not babysitting for anyone, I just decided to bring him with me this morning, instead of taking him to kindergarten.”

“Wait! So, he’s your son!?” someone asks, surprised.

“Yep.” You answer, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word, “My one and only.” Tim takes one of your hands and pulls on it to get your attention. “You forgot about Weasley!” he says with his brow furrowed. “Right.”

“Who’s Weasley?” another one of your students asks.

“Our dog.” You answer. “But Tim considers him like his big brother, that’s why he’s not so pleased with me forgetting to mention him. I’ve had him since, _this one_ ,” you say, as you ruffle your son’s hair, “was only a few months old. It was a gift from my brother, after I mentioned I was thinking about getting one. When we’re home, they’re inseparable, the dog just follows Timmy everywhere.”

“Ms. Karnstein, you’re a dog person!? No offense, but with your closed off personality and the way you act indifferent to almost everything, I had you pegged for a cat person, since, you know, you’re pretty much one.”

“Mom likes cats too! And she does act like one sometimes.” Timothy intervenes, “She’s always grouchy when someone wakes her up, and she makes the same face as the grumpy cat. And when we cuddle, she rubs her cheek on mine, just like a cat.”

One of the teens looks at you with a fake look of terror in their eyes, “My whole idea of you is good for the trash now. Who would have thought under all that,” they gesture to your clothes, while you raise an eyebrow at them, “and the attitude would hide _that_ person.” They finish with a smirk.

You give them an unimpressed look and you turn around to see Timothy, hands on his hips, brow furrowed and a very serious expression on his face, as he says “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” You can’t help the small smile that forms on your lips as the whole class erupts in laughter after their classmate was scolded by a four years old, about being respectful and judging others.

You and Tim ended up answering your students’ questions for most of the class that morning, because apparently, every time you answered one, a whole new lot of questions would surfaced and need your attention. Before they left for their next class, you made them promise to actually work next time you’d bring Timothy with you. They happily agreed, thrilled to know he’d be back.

That day actually changed the whole existing dynamic between you and your students. They still do the work you assign without complaining, the difference is it’s now out of respect for you and your authority, and understanding of who you are as a person, rather than out of fear of your cold persona. You appeared to be much more human to them once you shared some of your personal experiences with them, and continued to do so, telling them about some of the things that happened to you in college or about a country you visited. That changed the image they had of you and resulted in them granting you their trust, sharing silly stories or much more personal problems. When the latter happens, you make a point to always listen to them carefully and help them as best as you can. More than once, you defended some of your students to your fellow teachers, knowing the reasons behind their behaviors or their grades dropping, after they had share it with you.

Since they met Timmy, the teenagers have taken the habit of asking you how he’s doing, and they always seem to question you more when you haven’t brought him over in a while, which is usually a sign that you need to give your son a day off kindergarten, to bring him to work with you.

This time around, though, Tim’s the one who asked to come, he’s been bugging you for the most part of the week about it. You take a last bite of your cereals, looking over at your son to see he’s already finished with his, and picking up both your bowls to put them in the sink, before finishing your coffee and getting ready to leave. Timothy gets down from his stool, grabbing the counter so he won’t fall down and gives a hug to your red Labrador, before kissing the top of his head, like he always does when you leave the house without the dog, and going to pick up his small backpack. You ruffle the top of Weasley’s head, telling him to be good while you’re gone, before picking up your messenger bag, and getting out the door, Tim already waiting for you next to the car. You get in and you’re now on your way to work.

After his first visit to school, Timothy decided to start greeting your students as they would come in the room. He placed himself next to the door, and gave high fives or fist bumps to every single one of them. You could tell how happy the small gesture made them, as you saw their faces lit up when they would see him waiting for them by the door, on his following visits.

This morning is no exception, so you decide to make the most out of it, by finishing to grade the few remaining copies of the exam you gave on Wednesday that you still haven’t have the time to go through. Once you’re done, you lift your head to look at your class and see that everyone is already there, only a few seconds before the bell rings.

You get up from your chair and start to go over what you planned for today and the general result of the exam, explaining some of the questions that seemed to be more difficult. As you do that, Tim takes your place at the desk and begins to put stickers on every copy. He started to do that around mid-October. When he started, he would take stickers he found in his room but when he ran out of them, he made you buy some new ones. You now keep a stash of stickers, at home and in one of the drawer of your desk. Once he finishes, he goes around the class to give everyone their paper, earning as many thank you’s as the number of exams he hands out.

They begin to look over it, and you walk through the rows of desks, answering questions about notes you wrote or questions you didn’t go over, while other students finish the work you assigned last period or start the    readings and pages you gave for the day.

When nobody has any more questions, you go back to your desk where Tim’s now drawing with some coloured pencils. Just before you reach it, one of the pencils rolls off the desk and falls under it, he gets off the chair and kneels down to go search for it. It takes him a few seconds to find it, so you take advantage of the situation to drop in the chair, only for him to jump in your lap and continue his picture, as soon as he’s back on his feet.

While he does that, you manage around him to get the computer sitting on your desk started in order to get the new grades into the system. You wait a few seconds after pushing the power button, but nothing happens. You try shaking the mouse, turning the screen on and off and restarting the computer a couple times, but it gives no sign of life. You pick up Timothy and put him back in the chair once you’re standing. You go to the phone fixed to the wall and call the school’s secretary.

“Hi, Betty? It’s Carmilla Karnstein. I’m calling because I’m having some issues with the computer in my classroom. That’s the whole point! I’ve tried restarting it, but it won’t start! Can you call someone from IT to come take a look at it? Yeah, twenty minutes is okay. It’s better than a computer that won’t work for the rest of the day.” You grumble. “Thanks.” You say, before hanging up and going back to your desk once more. Timothy gets up to let you sit and you pick him up to put him back on your lap.

“Can I help you with your drawing while I wait for someone to come fix the computer, sweetheart?” You ask. Your students definitely haven’t finished all the work you gave them, and you don’t feel like getting interrupted in the middle of your lecture, so you might as well do something you feel like doing to pass the time.

He nods a little to let you know it’s okay, his eyes never leaving the image he’s creating on the paper. You pick a pencil and start a small sketch on the opposite side of where Tim’s working. You’re brought back to the present some time later, by a small knock on the door.

“Come in!” You say to the person on the other side, your head staying down and your eyes focused on your drawing. Timothy’s need to create new things, particularly art, definitely comes from you, and unfortunately, you haven’t had the time to make anything recently and you don’t already feel like stopping.

“I was told to come here for a computer problem?” a vaguely familiar voice asks. As soon as he hears it, Tim’s head shoots up, his eyes immediately falling on the newcomer. He drops his pen, and gets up from your lap in a flash. The next thing you know, he’s running towards the person still waiting in the doorway. You raise your head, curious about his reaction, at the same time as your son screams “Laura!”

You stay frozen in place, your hand still halfway to the paper. You watch as she barely has time to lower herself before Tim throws his arms around her neck. You see a mix of confusion, surprise and, you think, happiness on her face, as her arms circle his back to bring him in a bear hug, while he squeals with joy. She puts him back down before kneeling in front of him, keeping him at arm’s length, both wearing bright smile on their faces.

“What are you doing here?” She asks him.

“I told you mom’s a teacher, this is where she works. She brings me to school with her sometimes, on Friday. She says she ‘misses’ me too much otherwise.” He says, rolling his eyes, and making Laura laugh. You’re vaguely aware of a voice in your head complaining about the fact that you didn’t ask him anything this week, and he’s the one that actually wanted to come.

“Well, I can’t really blame her for that.” She says.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Me?” She answers, her head tilted slightly, making her look like a confused puppy.

“Yeah, you! Why are _you_ here?”

 “Oh, do you remember what I said when you asked me if I had a job, back at the grocery store?” He nods his head quickly. “Well, I’m here for work! This is one of the places I come to fix things from time to time, and today, it looks like it’s your mom’s computer.”

She looks up at you for the first time since she walked through the door, when she mentions you, giving you a small, shy smile. You look at her and try to catch every little details you can. Her hair has been put behind her ears, but a few strands of hair are still loose and her eyes are a soft caramel brown. She’s wearing a dark blue and forest green flannel shirt, with blue jeans and white chucks. She’s so simple, but there’s something about her, you don’t exactly know what, but you feel drawn to her and it makes it impossible for you to call her anything less than beautiful.

You shake your head, trying to get your mind back on track, on the reason Laura’s here in the first place. It’s only then your brain registers the three of you aren’t alone in the room. Your whole class is still here, and they were most likely disturbed by Timothy’s outburst, when Laura came in. You look up at them, most of your students seem to still be watching the interaction going on between your son and the IT tech, but a few of them are staring at you with knowing smiles and expectant looks. They seem to be waiting for you to explain the dynamic between Tim and Laura, like you hid something from them. But the truth is, _you_ don’t even get it, there’s nothing to explain really. They just clicked. And you know for sure that Timothy likes her, a lot. He wouldn’t let go of her at the grocery store, and it didn’t seem like it bothered her, so you can only guess, and secretly hope, the feeling is mutual, and that she likes him just as much as he does.

Laura also appears to have realized you have an audience only a few seconds after you, because she gets up from the floor and turns around to face the teenagers staring at her, with her cheeks tinted pink. You see Tim take her hand in his and giving it a squeeze, as he feels her discomfort, before starting to introduce her to everyone in the room.

“Guys, this is my friend Laura.” She gives a small wave. “We met at the grocery store a few weeks ago.”

“You guys became friends at the grocery store, how did that happen?” One of them asks.

“Well, she helped me when I couldn’t find…” You interrupt him mid-sentence. You didn’t tell them about what happened that day, not any of it, actually. You knew if you did, if you had told them you lost Timothy in a store, you would never hear the end of it.

“Oh, my!” You start, widening your eyes dramatically, “Tim, I just realised I completely forgot my book in the teacher’s room this morning, would you mind getting it for me, love?” He nods eagerly towards you and makes a move for the door, before you stop him once again, “Why don’t you take Laura with you? That way you can show her around and catch up a bit at the same time.” He smiles wide, before taking the woman’s hand once again and dragging her out in the hall.

“Euh, I really need to take a look at…” You hear Laura say before the door closes. For some time, you stay with your eyes closed, one hand pinching the bridge of your nose while the other rests on your hip. You just avoided a near catastrophe, but you know that once you turn around, you’ll have a whole new problem to deal with. Because, unfortunately for you, the teenagers behind you are definitely not as naïve as your son, which means they’ll be able to tell something’s up.

You make a split second decision and go back to the cold façade you would put on, every time you were teaching before the start of October. If you’re being scary enough, they probably won’t try to ask you questions about what just happened.

You turn around to face them, your face devoid of any emotion, while your now cold eyes burrow into them as you scan the class slowly. It last all of five seconds, before you hear Jordan, from the back of the class say, “Ms. K, you totally have the hots for the computer nerd!”

You feel your whole body deflate, your arms and your head dropping at the same time. You exhale loudly while bringing your hands back up to hide your face in them. “That obvious?” you ask, and you already know the answer to that question, but you hope they’ll lie for your own sake. You hear a chorus of ‘Yeah’ and that makes you groan. You wish so badly you could disappear right now. The last thing you need, is your students teasing you about your crush on Laura.

“You shouldn’t worry about it too much, though.” Another one of your students intervenes.

“Right.” You say sarcastically.

“No, seriously! She seems to be pretty oblivious to it, which means you’re in the clear. And it’s not like you’re the only one that doesn’t know how to properly hide their crush.” They tease.

“What are you even talking about?” you ask, lifting your hands from your face and shaking your head in confusion.

“Well, it seems like Laura’s not that great at it either.”

“What!?”

“Yeah, you didn’t see it, of course, but when you weren’t looking her way, her eyes were pretty much fixed on you.” You fight the smile trying to form on your lips, at what they just told you.

“You should stop acting like an idiot and ask her on a date, already! Timothy seems to love her, so it’s not like you don’t already have his approval.”

“I kind of asked her on a date, once. Okay, well, not exactly, it wasn’t a date and I wasn’t the one who asked. Tim asked her to come watch a movie at our place, right after the whole grocery store thing.”

“What the hell happened in that grocery store?”

“That’s… really not relevant to the situation. The point is, she couldn’t come that night, so he invited her to come over some other time, but she left before I could think of asking her for her number or give her our address. I’ve been going to the grocery store every Friday, ever since, hoping to run into her. It’s the first time we see her in three weeks! And at this point I had pretty much giving up hope.”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying! You wanna get with her, so you need to woman up and ask her out! For real, this time.”

You hear laughter coming from the hall and you turn in time to see Laura opening the door, Timothy thrown over her shoulder with one of her arms holding his legs, while his arms circle her stomach and one of his hands grips your book at the same time.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who won that race, bud.” She says still grinning as she puts him down on the floor.

“That’s not fair! When I asked you to race, you threw me over your shoulder, I didn’t even have a chance.” He says. “Besides, we actually crossed the door at the same time, since you were holding me, which means we both won!”

“Fair enough!” she says, holding her hand for him to shake, “By the way, the only reason I did it was because I knew you’d win. If I had started running, I would have probably tripped on my own shoe laces and have face planted on the ground.” He shakes her hand and a small smile forms on his lips, letting you know he’s not really mad about what she did, he’s probably pleased too, that she admitted he would have beaten her if he actually had been able to run.

“So,” she says, getting up from her crouched down position and looking up at you, “I still need to take a look at that computer.”

“Of course!” You say, gesturing to your desk, “It’s right over here.”

“Thanks.” She says, giving you a bright smile.

She sits on your chair and you see her push the power button on the computer, trying to get it started. You take a deep breath and look back at your class, you know they’re all pretending to actually do some work, in an attempt to make you feel a little less stressed about what you’re going to do. You see Jordan, giving you two thumbs up and a wide grin, from the back of the room.

“Hey, Laura?” You say, turning back towards the tech.

“Yeah.” She answers distractedly, while pushing back the chair and kneeling under the desk.

“Hum, I was wondering if, euh, you’d want to go out and grab dinner with me, sometimes.” You hear a loud thump and a small ‘ouch’ before you see Laura’s head pop back up, a hand rubbing the back of her head.

“I’d love to, actually.” She answers with a small smile.

“That’s great! You can totally come to movie night this time around, then.” You hear Timothy answer. You feel a blush creeping up your neck and you realize you’re not the only one, when you see Laura’s now bright red cheeks.

“Right, today’s Friday.” She says. “I could do movie night. We just have to actually exchange numbers this time around.” She continues with a half-smile and sounding a bit amused.

“I am _so_ sorry about that!” You say with a sheepish face. She gives you a warm smile then, making her eyes brighten at the same time, and you realize the pressure and stress you were feeling a few minutes ago are now gone. You feel like you’re both on the same page now, which makes you feel more confident than before.

“I can write down Mom’s phone number and our address, for you, if you’d like, Laur.” Timothy jumps in, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I would really appreciate if you’d do that for me while I take a closer look at this thing, here.” She says lightly hitting the top of the computer with her hand.

You supervise Tim as he writes your contact information, to make sure he doesn’t make any errors, because not being able to see her or hear from her again over one wrong number or letter is the last thing you want right now. You hear a small snicker and then Laura calling your name.

“Yeah?”

“Did you, by any chance, check to make sure the computer was actually plugged, before you called to have someone come take a look at it?” She says.

“No, why would I do that?” You respond.

“Well, you know the computer doesn’t actually work unless electricity is coursing through it, right?” She says in the same way she would to explain something to a child, and looking at you with a small grin on her face.

You roll your eyes at her. “Of course, I know that, cutie, I’m not an idiot.” You huff. “What I meant was, there is no reason for me to make sure of that, we never unplug it.”

“Well,” she says, while getting up, brandishing a bright yellow pencil, “it looks like someone did, on accident.” You shake your head in disbelief, before looking back at your son, still writing, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.

You can’t help but laugh, today, marks the second time you met Laura, and both those times were only made possible by one of Timothy’s mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you though about it! I'd also love to know what you guys prefer POV wise. Single? Multiple? Or if you prefer a certain characters POV. 
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes. I had a harder time with the editing for this chapter, especially verb tenses, so if you see anything don't hesitate telling me, so I can mix it. I actually went over the first chapter, since I posted it, so the second chapter would be coherent and I wouldn't just repeat the same things, anyway I fixed a whole bunch of errors, I tried to be more careful this time around.
> 
> I probably won't be able to post a next chapter anytime soon, with the end of terms fast approaching.


	3. Weird Bets and Middle Names

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I've had this written for sometime now but still had to edit it and stuff. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> This chapter is from Laura's POV.

You’re in your apartment right now. After you left the school, you went about your day, like you usually do, a few more calls and a lot more things to fix. You came back here afterwards, to freshen up and give yourself a pep talk, which ended up in a little meltdown, caused by your nervousness and your insecurities. You get in your coat, wrap your scarf around your neck and put your beanie on your head, before picking up your bag and leaving your place.

You looked up the itinerary from your home to theirs, earlier, and were happily surprised to find out it’s only a twenty minutes walk, so you decided the fresh air might do you some good. You go back over everything that happened today, when you went to fix Carmilla’s computer, and once you pull yourself out of your reverie, you can feel the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile. The fact that a simple memory can have that effect on you, without you even noticing, makes your smile even bigger.

After a few more minutes of walking you recognize the street name they gave you. You pull out the small piece of paper you’ve been clutching in your pocket since you left the apartment, repeating in your head that it’s only so you can keep yours hands warm, from the quickly dropping temperature. You look down at Tim’s messy handwriting on the sheet he gave you, once you were done with the computer. The one you had seen Carmilla double check before letting him give it to you. The same one he had told you to be extra careful with and to make sure not to lose. You feel the smile coming back on your face and can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the memories or the people behind them. You decide it’s probably a bit of both.

You check the street number scribbled on the paper, _307_ , before beginning your way down the street, searching the right place. You look at all the numbers, either directly nailed to houses or stuck on mailbox near driveways, to make sure you won’t miss it by mistake. It takes you a few minutes before you finally stop in front of a small, dark grey house. You look down at the paper one final time, to make sure you have the right address, because with your luck, knocking on the wrong door is definitely a possibility. You let your eyes wander, trying to catch every details they can about the house.

The first things you notice are the car in the driveway and the smoke escaping the chimney, letting you know they’re home. A few trees in the front yard are partially hiding the house and there are wooden fences separating the property from the ones next door. You walk down the driveway until you’re in the front of a ‘L’ shaped path, composed of flat rocks, that leads to the front door.

You walk down the whole way until you’re in front of the steps. You climb those and stop a few feet short from the door. You adjust your beanie and smooth out your coat, before taking a deep breath and moving one step forward, lifting the knocker and bringing it down on the door three times. You put your hands in your pockets and move back from the door slightly while you dock your head, your chin hiding behind your scarf and your eyes falling on your shoes, waiting for someone to open it.

You hear some commotion on the other side of the door and you lift your head at the same time as it opens, to see Carmilla standing right in front of you. You think you see something weirdly resembling relief, flash in her eyes when they fall on you, before it disappears quickly and she gives you a small smile.

“Hey.” She says.

“Hey.” You answer a bit shyly.

Before both of you can do anything else, you hear loud footsteps and lift your head in the direction of the sound, to see Tim hurtle down the stairs, near the end of the hall, a big ball of red fur following closely behind. The boy comes crashing into your legs, his arms wrapping behind them. You see Carmilla grabbing the dog by his collar, before he can get any closer. She tells him to sit, and he obeys almost immediately, his tail thumping hard on the ground in excitement. You focus back on Tim, who’s still holding onto your legs.

“Don’t tell me you’ve missed me already? We saw each other only a few hours ago!” You joke, as he lets go of you and take a step back to give you some space.

“Tim, why don’t you let Laura come inside, it’s freezing out there.” She says, rubbing her arm with her free hand. “And I don’t want either of you to get sick.”

He gets back in the hallway, waiting beside the door for you to get in and closes the door behind you once you pass the threshold. You take off your coat and your scarf, hanging them on one of the free hooks on the wall next to you, noticing all of them are at different heights, the lowest one with Tim’s stuff on it.

“I’m sorry.” You hear Carmilla say and you turn around to look at her, brow furrowed, trying to understand the reason behind her apology. She gestures to the dog she’s still holding next to her, before she continues. “I forgot to ask how you feel about dogs. Don’t worry, he’s not bad or anything, he’s just a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. Especially when we have new people over, which doesn’t happen often and that seems to make it an even more exciting thing for him.”

You look back down at the dog, still wagging his tail and looking up at you expectantly, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as he pants. He whines softly and shuffles in his spot, when Carmilla still doesn’t let him go. You think he looks like a giant goof ball, the furthest thing from scary.

“Oh, that’s alright! I like dogs, I never had the chance to have one, but still… He looks like he couldn’t hurt a fly! You can let him go.”

As soon as she releases him, he comes towards you, sniffing all around. You ignore him while he tries to figure out if he can trust you or not.

“He could, actually. Hurt someone, I mean.” Carmilla says. “He can get pretty protective sometimes, but never without a good reason. He’s a real sweetheart, though.”

You feel something cold on your hand and look down to see the dog nuzzling it, a sign he wants you to pet him. You start to scratch his red coat and rub his head.

“What’s his name?” You ask, curious, your attention still on the dog.

“Weasley!” Tim answers, a big smile on his face.

Your head shoots up towards Carmilla, a smirk on your lips and one of your eyebrows raised.

“You named your dog after a character in Harry Potter?” You ask, amused.

“Well, firstly, he’s not actually named after one character in particular, but after the whole family, and secondly, I’m not the one that chose his name, my brother did. He was really into Harry Potter when we were younger, I kind of secretly was too, and he unfortunately figured it out, at some point. He’s the one that gave me the dog and when he did, he just told me his name was Weasley. He was still trying to make a joke about the whole thing, years later. I think he actually expected me to change his name, but it didn’t really bother me, so I just rolled with it.” Carmilla finishes, with a shrug.

You nod your head a little, taking in the entire explanation. You just learned two things about her that you didn’t expect. First, she’s a Harry Potter fan and second she has a sibling. You pet the dog one last time, before getting back up.

“What pizza do you like?” Timothy asks.

“What?” You say, confused at the sudden change of subject.

“We eat pizza on Fridays,” he explains “so what’s your favorite.”

“Oh, I don’t really mind. I’m fine with everything!” You answer.

“Okay, well we usually order vegetarian, so if that’s good with you, I’ll go call to have it prepared and delivered.” Carmilla says and you nod in agreement. “Tim, why don’t you take Laura to the living room?”

He nods, giving her a bright smile, before grabbing your hand and dragging you a little further down the hall.

“Is it okay if we draw for now, because we can’t start the movie until dinner and all my stuff is already on the table?” Timothy asks, as you enter the room on your left.

“Sure, that’s great! I mean, I’m a terrible artist, but you could show me a thing or two, and if you have a colouring book and some pencils, I can totally do something with that! I’m a much better colorer, wait, I’m not sure that’s actually a word, but anyway you know what I mean. My coloring skills surpass my drawing ones, which are pretty much none existing.” You ramble.

He lets go of your hand, once you’re in front of a large coffee table, covered in colouring pencils and various sheets of paper. He drops to his knees on the floor as you take a seat on the couch opposite him.

“It’s fine.” He says as he slides a thick book in front of you, opening it to show you the still blank images. “You know, you could color one of these for me, and I could draw something for you?” He offers, already pushing some of his pencils towards you.

“I’d really like that! Every time someone would come to my place I could show off your amazing skills and tell them it’s a Timothy Karnstein original, when they ask about the incredible piece of art stuck to my fridge’s door.” You tell him, with excitement.

“You’d really put it on your fridge?” He asks, looking right at you, his eyes shining.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? Besides, I’m always looking for some good stuff to decorate my place. I’ll even put it in a frame, if you want me to!” You reply, with a wide smile, teasing him.

“No, the fridge’s door his fine.” He says, giggling at your enthusiasm. You start on coloring a panther after that, as he begins on his drawing, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you.

You get interrupted a few minutes later by Carmilla walking in the room, her hand holding a phone to her shoulder, muffling the sound going in the microphone.

“Cupcake, what do you want to drink?” She asks, looking your way.

“Grape soda, if they have any, please.” You answer.

She nods her head, before turning towards Tim slightly, “You’re good with that too, bud?” He nods, his eyes still glued to the paper.

“We’ll go with three grape sodas.” She says into the phone, as she leaves the room.

Instead of going right back to what you were doing, you look around the room. From your place on the couch, you’re facing the TV fixed on the wall, with bookcases on both sides, filled with a mix of books and DVDs. You turn your head to the left where the fireplace is and spot some photos on top of it, but they’re too far for you to be able to see who’s in it. You’re leaning forward, trying to get a better look, when you hear the sound of metal clinking softly. Weasley passes in front of you and jumps on the couch, taking the seat next to you. He puts his head on your left thigh and stay still for a few seconds, before looking up at you expectantly, when you don’t do anything, and starting to whine softly.

“Don’t mind him, he just acts like a big baby most of the time when he doesn’t get enough attention.” Carmilla says, as she walks back in the room. “You’re new, so he’s testing you to see if he can get what he wants easily. If you just ignore him for a while, he’ll stop.” She continues, ruffling Tim’s hair as she passes behind him, before sitting down on the dog’s other side and propping her feet up on the coffee table. “The pizza should be here in twenty minutes, by the way.”

A few seconds later, the dog huffs, turning around on the couch’s cushion and putting his head in Carmilla’s lap. Her hand seems to move automatically to the top of his head to pet him. You look at her with an eyebrow raised, at the action, a complete contradiction of what she just told you.

“What?” She says when she catches the look you’re giving her. “I didn’t know all these things when I got him! How do you think I learn about those? No matter what I do now, and believe me, I’ve tried countless times, he won’t stop whining until I give him some attention. You don’t know it yet, but I’m actually doing you a favor, by telling you not to give in. Unless you want to be his slave for the rest of his life, then go right ahead. If you listen to me, he’ll leave you alone and just wait for you to have time for him.” You shake your head and roll your eyes, a small smile on your lips when you think about Carmilla Karnstein getting manipulated by a dog. You might have been a bit terrified by her when you first met, but the more things you learn about her and the more trouble you have trying to reconcile the woman you met at the grocery store with the one sitting next to you.

“So…” You hear Carmilla say, when you move to sit on the floor, putting your legs under the coffee table and crossing your ankles, as you get back to your drawing. “Hum, everything good with your dad? He still doesn’t know about your unhealthy food habits?” She finishes, and you can hear the smirk on her face as she says the last sentence.

“Yeah, no, I mean everything’s always fine between us, unless I let something slip that he doesn’t approve of or I forget to call him. When that happens, he freaks out and is convinced something happened to me. The police actually showed up to my place once. I had lost my phone and hadn’t been able to reach out to him, I hadn’t really thought about it, I had bigger problem at the time, you know. He’s a bit intense.” You say, turning around to look at Carmilla, both her eyebrows raise in surprise and her mouth slightly open.

“A bit, you say?” She replies sarcastically.

“Well, now you know why he’s unaware of my _actual_ food intake and why I’d like it to stay that way.” You continue, as you turn back around. “He’s meddling in my life enough as it is, with the weekly calls and day of the week bear spray, which by the way, who even needs that much. He also made me take Krav Maga lessons since I was eight, so I’d be able to defend myself in pretty much any situation. So, you can see he’s a little protective.”

“Krav Maga and bear spray.” You hear Carmilla mumble behind you, confused.

“And, I’d like to let you know that, since I met the both of you, I’ve been making sure to always have some fruits and vegetables stock in my fridge.” You say, proud of yourself.

“Having seen what you usually eat, that’s quite impressive, Cupcake. Have you actually been eating those, or are you just keeping them in there to make it seem like you’re healthy?” She counters, smirking.

“What!? Oh, that’s not- Of course, I’ve been eating them! I’m not that far gone that I can live exclusively on artificial sugar, okay? I’m not pretending, I’m really doing it.” You grumble.

“Right, I’m sure you are, Cutie.” She continues playfully, making you narrow your eyes at her.

The knock on the front door makes you jump a little and you see Carmilla smirking at you, before getting up to get the door. You follow behind her to get some money from your bag to pay for your share of dinner. She opens the door while you’re looking through your bag for your wallet.

“Hey, Ms. K! How’s it going?” You hear a male voice say.

You can practically hear Carmilla roll her eyes, before she exhales and says “I’m doing good, Jordan. I’m going to take a wild guess here, and say that, since you were doing well earlier this morning and with the way you’re acting standing in front of my door right now, you’re doing good too.” She answers and you chuckle, making two pairs of eyes fall on you. Carmilla with a confused expression and Jordan, you remember seeing him in her class this morning, with a huge grin on his face.

“What?” You say, you’re eyes wide at their expressions.

“What are you doing, Cupcake?” Carmilla asks at the same time as Jordan answers “Nothing, computer nerd.” Which earns him a glare from Carmilla.

“I’m just getting some money, so I can pay for my part.” You say, innocently, and she immediately begins to shake her head.

“No. Not happening.” She says.

“What! Why not?”

“Because, this” she gestures at the pizza Jordan’s still holding on the other side of the threshold “is something that I do every Friday night. You being here doesn’t cost me anything more, so I’m sure as hell not letting you pay for it.” She finishes, putting a hand in her back pocket, extracting a few crumpled bills, before shoving them in Jordan’s free hand and tacking the pizza from him.

“Bye.” She says, going to close the door.

“Wait, I also came to see if you needed another pep talk!” He says with a mocking grin on his face. As he finishes his sentence, Carmilla slams the door in his face. Her neck is bright red as she starts walking down the hall, calling after you to follow her and then Timmy, letting him know the pizza has arrived.

You put your wallet back in your bag, before going after her, Tim running out of the living room at the same time as you pass the open door, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the next room on your right, the dog hot on your trail.

When you enter the kitchen, the pizza’s on the island counter, the top of the cardboard box open as Carmilla cuts equal parts through it.

“Tim can you bring me three plates, please.” She asks.

“Sure!” He answers, quickly.

“Can I do anything to help?” You ask, unsure of what to do.

“Don’t worry, Laur, me and Mom got this.” Timothy says, giving you a bright smile, as he climbs on top of a chair to reach a cupboard.

You nod your head a little, still looking at Tim to make sure he won’t fall, before you spot a picture on the refrigerator. You get a little closer, among all of Tim’s drawings and the photos of him and Carmilla, you find a picture with four people in it. Timothy’s sitting in Carmilla’s lap, wearing aviator glasses, that are much too big for him, while she hugs him from behind, her chin resting on top of his head. On Carmilla’s left, an important looking woman with chocolate brown skin, wearing a bright, expensive dress and a killer smile, has her arm wrapped around Carmilla’s shoulders. In the same position, but on the opposite side of the picture is a man with dark hair and pale skin, wearing a familiar smirk on his face and a black t-shirt.

“Who are they?” You ask, before you register what you’re saying. Both of them turn around to see who you’re referring to.

“William and Matska.” She answers at the same time as he says “Uncle Will and Aunt Mattie.”

You turn around to face them. Carmilla’s putting plates in front of the three stools at the counter and Timothy’s taking the seat at the far left, gesturing for you to take the one in the middle. Carmilla goes to wash her hands at the sink, before picking up the picture you were looking at only a few seconds ago and coming to sit on your right. She places it down on the counter, grabbing her slice of pizza and taking a bite, before gesturing to the woman on the glassy paper.

“That’s Mattie.” She says. “She’s the oldest and is also a lawyer, she owns her own law firm.” She takes another bite and continues. “That looser there,” she says, pointing to the man, “that’s my baby brother, William. He’s a mechanic, owns a shop with his best friend.”

You nod, before something registers in your brain.

“Wait, isn’t Timothy’s middle name William?” You say. She sighs and grumbles before answering you.

“Yes, but that’s a rather long story.”

You look at her with a big smile, an arm propped on the counter, your chin resting on your fist, until she looks at you.

“God, your as bad as Timothy when you want something.” She says and you pout, still looking at her.

“Fine!” She relents. “When we were younger, Willy boy and I made bets against one another all the time. It usually included chores, allowance or dares. William got a bit cocky, and to be honest, I don’t remember what that particular bet was about, all I remember is the stakes. If I won, Will had to do all my chores for a month, and if I lost, I had to give my child his first name. Frankly, I didn’t want kids back then, it wasn’t even a thing I thought about, there was just no way, I was ever taking that big of a responsibility on my shoulders. So, that bet was no big deal at the time. Like you’ve probably already figured out, I lost that one. I had completely forgotten about it, until years later, I announced to my dear brother, I was pregnant and he responded ‘Welcome to the family, little William!’ Fortunately, I was able to bargain with him to have William put has Tim’s middle name, since the terms of the bet were somewhat unclear.”

“Woah, that’s…something. Who even bets their future child’s name?” You say, incredulous.

“Creampuff, I told you, I had no intention to have a child, and don’t worry, I learned my lesson with that one. I don’t make bets anymore, ever.” She picks up the photo once again, putting it back on the door with a magnet. “Why don’t we move this to the living room, so we can get started on that movie, while we finish eating?” She says.

As Carmilla puts a new slice in each of your plates, you feel Tim wiggling on his stool next to you, he seems to have a hard time getting back on the ground.

“Hey, bud. How about I give you a ride to the living room?” You say as you get up and he smiles up at you, happily. He climbs on your back, and you grab your two plates, before walking to the next room. You crouch down, near the coffee table and set the plates down on it, while Tim lets go of the hold he still has on you. You sit down on the floor, your back resting on the front of the couch, as he goes to pick up some DVDs near the television, before coming back next to you and putting three cases in front of you.

“Those are the movie choices for tonight.” He says, at the same time as Carmilla walks in the room, the dog not far behind. She settles in the middle of the couch, while Weasley takes the seat to her right. You bring your focus back on Timothy as he presents you the movies he selected. “You have to choose between Toy Story, Monsters, Inc. and Lilo & Stitch.”

“Well, I usually cry a lot listening to any Toy Story movie and I’m not really feeling Elvis tonight, so how about we go with Monsters, Inc.?” You answer.

“That’s good, we haven’t seen this one in a while!” He says as he picks the movie up to put it in the DVD player, before coming back to sit on the floor, next to you.

“So, you cry while watching children’s movie, Cutie?” Carmilla says, looking at you with a smirk. You roll your eyes and raise an eyebrow at her.

“Of course I cry when I watch kid’s movies! They’re the saddest ones, Carm! And don’t try to act like you don’t, because I’m sure you do too.”

She keeps staring at you with an eyebrow raised, like she’s challenging you to prove it, so you give her a sweet smile, before turning towards Tim.

“Hey Tim, does your mom ever cr-” Before you can finish your sentence, your mouth is covered by Carmilla’s hand. “You’re definitely _not_ using my own son against me, Cupcake.” She says.

“Mom, stop talking the movie’s starting!” Timothy says, turning around to face both of you. “And would you leave Laura alone,” he continues, peeling her hand from your mouth, “we want her to come back, not to be scared away by you!” He finishes, glaring at her.

She sits back in her seat properly, her legs folded under her and her arms crossed on her chest, before scowling and mumbling “She started it.”

You give her an amused smile and poke her knee, trying to get her attention. “I knew you cried watching them too, but don’t worry, I still like you.” You say, before turning back around to focus on the movie and finish your dinner.

A few minutes later, you feel something heavy on your right shoulder and turn your head to be able to see what it is. Weasley has put his head on you, and his currently pretending not to be looking at you. You roll your eyes at his subtlety, before you start scratching his head. Once he’s satisfied, he lifts his head from your shoulder and puts it back on the couch’s arm instead.

You’re more than half way through the movie when you feel Tim leaning against your side, yawning. About ten minutes later, he’s asleep with his head in your lap, while your playing with his hair.

When the credits start rolling, Carmilla reaches forward for the remote and turns the TV off, she crouches down on Tim’s other side, telling you she’s going to put him to bed, before gathering him in her arms, and walking towards the stairs.

You get up and stretch, your back popping in a few places, before shaking your numb legs, trying to regain some feelings in them after staying in the same position, for so long. You pick up the dirty plates and go to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher. You take the pizza box and put it on one of the refrigerator’s shelf. You go back to the living room, picking up the two now finished drawings, putting the one Tim made for you carefully in your bag, before going into the kitchen once again and placing yours on the fridge, for him to see in the morning.

You’re waiting for Carmilla near the front door, dressed to leave, when she comes back down. You think she looks a bit disappointed.

“Thanks for tonight, I had a great time.” You say.

“Yeah, me too.”

It’s awkward and you don’t like it, because it has a tendency to make you nervous, or _more_ nervous depending on the situation. So, you just try to put an end to it as quickly as possible.

“Talk to you soon!” You say, with a little wave, before turning around. You hesitate a few seconds, your hand on the doorknob, before you decide to just go for it. You do a quick one-eighty and bring her in a bone crushing hug, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, before letting her go.

“Bye!” You squeak, as you spin back around, opening the door and closing it as fast as you can behind you. You release the breath, you didn’t know you were holding, before you start your way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought about this chapter in the comments.
> 
> I'll try to get another chapter out before Christmas, no promises though. Have a great week!


	4. Surprise Visits and Questionings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go guys! I was able to finish this chapter before Christmas!
> 
> I edited this last night and I found some really weird mistakes I had made, like writing 'I' instead of 'why' and 'hand' instead of 'end.' So I'm sorry if I wasn't able to find and correct all of them.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
> 
> P.S. This chapter switch POV between Carmilla and Laura. The First two parts are Carmilla's and the last two Laura's.

Today’s December 23rd. It’s been almost four weeks since Laura came over to your house for her very first movie night with you and Tim, and has been a willing participant, showing up on every following occasions, proving your son’s fear, of you scaring her away, wrong.

You had texted her the next week, on Tuesday, to go get lunch with her the day after. It’s another thing that changed in your routine, and it means you get to see Laura twice a week now, on Wednesdays and Fridays. Your lunches are usually spent getting to know more about one another, where as on movie nights, the three of you just have fun and relax. You’ve come to realize that you feel lighter on those days, happier. Not that you’re not happy on your own with Timothy, it’s just that it feels different. Like the shit and stress you have to deal with dissipate around her, as if it wasn’t there in the first place.

You’ve been buying Gummy Bears and chocolate chip cookies every week, to Tim’s insistent demand. So you’re now stocked on those for a while. You’re also pretty sure that Laura’s gotten Timothy and you addicted to hot chocolate. You got home later than usual one day and she was already waiting outside, Timothy was half frozen because of the sudden drop in temperature of the last few days, so she fixed the three of you a cup.

You’ve learned, amongst other things, that she doesn’t drink coffee, at all. She tried it once, in college, as a last resort when she had a paper due for the next morning, and had almost spat it back out. On top of that, the caffeine mixed with her natural energy made it impossible for her to sleep for a good forty-eight hours. It had been the first and only time she ever took some, as she had managed to survive the rest of her college years on hot chocolate. According to her, that’s how she perfected her hot-chocolate-making skills. You assume that her body is so used to sugar that even when she consumes an incredible amount of it, _that_ doesn’t keep her up for days.

You weren’t able to get together for lunch today, because she had some extra work to finish before she can get time off for the holidays. It’s also her last day in town, since she’s leaving for a week, tomorrow to go to her Dad’s.

That’s why you and Timothy are standing in front of Laura’s apartment door, right now. He knocks on it with his free hand, the one that isn’t holding yours. The small back pack on his shoulders filled with cookies and candies, and somewhere amongst all that should be the ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ DVD she made you promise to watch, once she’d be back.

You hear a voice behind the door before it opens and Laura’s standing in front of you. The first thing you notice is that she looks tired. You know she’s pretty much been working none stop since Saturday, so you’re not surprised. The second thing is the lost and confused look on her face before she even registers you’re the ones who knocked. And the third thing you take not of, is the way she keeps the door half closed, even after she has realized it’s you.

Soon after she has opened the door, you see her expression shift to nervousness. It’s not the Laura you have gotten used to in the last few weeks that is standing in front of you now, but the one you first met at the grocery store. The one that gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, before leaving awkwardly that first night. Before you can ask her what’s wrong, Tim collides with her legs, wrapping his arms around them in a hug.

“Hey.” She says softly, as she bends a little to be able to return the gesture.

“Who’s at the door, Laura?” You hear someone say, as the door opens completely. There’s a man standing behind her, who’s at least a foot taller than she is and still wearing a coat. He furrows his brow when is eyes fall on you and Timothy, who’s back at your side and grabbing your hand once again. Your whole body tenses up when you meet his gaze, because you have no idea who he is. The only man Laura has ever talked to you about is her dad, but he lives hours away and she’s living tomorrow to be able to be with him for the holidays.

“Is everything okay? You ask Laura, your eyes still locked on him. She shifts to be next to you and it’s only then that your gaze moves to follow her, instead of watching him.

“Everything’s fine, Carm.” She says, putting a hand on your forearm and brushing her thumb on your skin in an attempt to reassure you. The gesture is unfamiliar between the two of you, but still welcome, as you feel your body relax instantly.

“Carmilla, _this_ is my dad.” She says, as she motions towards the man still standing on the other side of the threshold. “He decided to surprise me and fly down here for Christmas, instead of having me drive home. I was thinking of the best playlist to put for the trip tomorrow, until he got here a few minutes ago.”

You look back at the man, you now know his Mr. Hollis, and notice his expression has changed from confusion to surprise. You see it now. His eyes. They’re the same shade of brown as Laura’s and you wonder how you even missed it, in the first place.

“Dad, this is Carmilla and Timothy.” She continues as she gestures toward you, before turning to face the both of you. “What are you guys doing here?” She asks with a soft and quiet voice, her eyes filled with questions.

Timothy lets go of you to move closer to Laura, taking her hand and trying to drag her back inside the apartment.

“Mom thought we could come and surprise you before you leave. We brought the Grinch, so we won’t have to wait for you to come back to watch it!” He answers, enthusiastically.

You see her face soften, but before she can say or do anything, you put a hand on Tim’s shoulder to get his attention and prevent him to go any further. You crouch down in front of him, so that your faces are at the same level and you’re able to look into his eyes when you talk to him.

“Hey bud, Laura has someone over already and we don’t want to impose. They haven’t seen each other in a long time, so we’ll let them catch up. We’ll come back another day, okay?” You tell him and you see his shoulders sag when you finish your last sentence.

“You don’t have to go just because I’m here.” You look up at Mr. Hollis, whose frown has now returned, and is looking between Laura’s disappointed face and your son’s sad expression, before his eyes settle on you. “This little guy seemed pretty excited about being here, I wouldn’t want to make him upset.” He says, scratching his beard covered cheek, as a small smile appears on his face. “Laur, do you have any objections with me joining you to watch the movie?”

You look back at Laura to see her face brighten and a big smile forming on it. “Sure, Dad! You can join us!”

She then grabs Timothy and throws him over her shoulder, earning herself a giggle from him and making Laura laugh in turn, as she passes her father in the small hallway. You stay there, looking after them until Mr. Hollis takes a step outside the apartment, extending a hand towards you.

“Carmilla, is it?” He asks and you nod, before taking his hand and shaking it. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Carmilla.”

“Pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Hollis.” You answer, before stepping inside.

“Carm, Dad! Are you guys coming, anytime soon?”

 

* * *

 

“So, how long have you two known each other?” Mr. Hollis asks.

You open your mouth to answer his question, but before you have time to say anything, Laura jumps in. “Dad, shh! We’re watching the movie, that _you_ decided to join, so your questions can wait to be asked later.”

You look over at her, to see that she’s still very focused on the screen, with her legs folded underneath her and Tim’s head in her lap, which has become a fairly common sight to you. Ever since Laura became a part of your Friday nights, Timothy had started gravitating more and more around her for the few hours they are together each week.

You’re pretty sure it’s not something Mr. Hollis has seen often though, if the look he has on his face, when he looks over at them, is anything to base on. You don’t know if it’s because he had no idea you even existed less than an hour ago, even less of the easy going relationship between Laura and your son, or because he’s just never seen his daughter like that before. You believe it could also, very well, be a mix of the two.

You can’t say you hadn’t been surprised when you had first seen them in a similar position. Something inside them had just clicked when they had met as far as you can tell. They act around one another with such familiarity, sometimes, it’s like they have known each other for years. You have gotten used to that, and her just being around pretty quickly, especially for you. Laura was special, apparently. Plus, she’s a decent human being, which means, whatever _this_ is, isn’t such a bad thing.

You get up and take the three empty mugs sitting on the coffee table, bringing them with you in the apartment’s kitchen. You open the cupboard where you know Laura keeps the hot chocolate mix, what she would probably say is the most important thing to know about where she keeps her stuff. You start on making three new cups, when Mr. Hollis steps inside the room.

“They look pretty cozy out there.” He says, his thumb held over his shoulder pointing towards the living room.

“Yeah, it’s been like that since they met, more or less. They’re really attached to one another, apparently.” You say with a small smile, as you add hot water in the mugs. “Can’t say that Timothy was very happy last week, when Laura told him she was leaving for the holidays and he wouldn’t get to see her like usual.

You see Mr. Hollis nodding a little, before noticing the empty cup in his hand. “Want a refill?” You say, gesturing to it.

“Oh, no thank you, Carmilla. That would be too much sugar for me.” He answers, as he places it in the sink. You take a spoon from a drawer, starting to steer the liquid in the first mug.

“You seem to know your way around here.” He says, gesturing to the kitchen with his finger, and you’re not sure if it’s suppose to be an accusation or an observation.

“Not really.” You say. “The only things I know are where the hot chocolate is, which cupboards has mugs in it and which drawer to open if I need a spoon.” You finish as you turn around to stare at him, your arms folded over your chest.

He furrows his brow, like he’s trying to put pieces together in order to understand something, crossing his own arms. “When did you meet Laura?” He asks, echoing his previous question, from the living room.

“Almost two months ago.” You say, not giving more information.

“You know each other from work or something?”

“Or something.” You answer, which makes even more frown lines appear on his face. You let out a big breath, before continuing. “Look Mr. Hollis, I think those are questions you should be asking Laura, not me. If she wants to answer them, she will. I understand she’s your only child and you don’t want anything bad to happen to her, so you try to protect her. From _everything_. But maybe you should let her make her own decisions, she’s not a kid anymore, and I’m sure that if she needs your help, she’ll ask. It would also be much easier to talk to you about somethings if she didn’t expect you to freak out at whatever she’ll say.” You turn around to face the counter, but something else crosses your mind. “And for the record Mr. Hollis, I don’t want or plan on hurting Laura in anyway. It’s not just myself I’ll have to protect if something happens, but my son too. So, if you look at it this way, I’m actually the one who has more to lose, here. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you say, as you pick up the mugs and try to balance them in your hands, “I’ve got people waiting for their drinks.”

You make your way back to the couch, before setting the cups down on the coffee table and sitting down next to Tim, once again. You can feel Laura’s eyes on you, so you turn your head to look at her. She’s giving you a worried look, her gaze shifting from you to the room’s entrance, like she’s asking you a question and expecting an answer.

You just shrug and when her expression doesn’t change, you roll your eyes at her which makes her smile and relax a bit, before both of you go back to watching the movie.

You see Timothy reaching for his cup at the same time as Laura takes hers, and you swat his hand away. “It’s really hot, you need to let it cool down for a few more minutes before you can drink it.” You say.

“How come Laura can take hers?” He says, looking at you grumpily.

“Well, first, Laura’s an adult, she makes her own decisions, and second, I’m pretty sure her taste buds don’t even register the temperature of whatever she drinks or eat anymore, because she burned them too many times, by drinking way-too-hot hot chocolates.” You answer, teasing her.

“Hey! Not fair!” She says, sounding offended, but you see her hide a smile behind her mug and know she’s not really affected by it.

You see her eyes shift to something behind you and she frowns when her father asks if he can talk to her for a few minutes. She tickles Tim’s sides to get him off her, before getting up and walking out of the room. Tim immediately curls up in your side, since you’re the next best thing, apparently. You run your hand through his curly hair, trying to think of something else than the conversation probably taking place in the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

You enter the room on the other side of the hall and go sit on the counter next to the sink, while your dad comes to stand a few feet before you.

“What did you want to talk about, Dad?” you ask, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you never told me about Timothy and Carmilla?” He asks.

“Well, I haven’t known them that long and you certainly wouldn’t have approved of me going to, basically, a stranger’s house.” You say, looking at your hands fidgeting in your lap. “I just really wanted to get to know them, and I already had your voice in the back of my head telling me it wasn’t a good idea. I didn’t need you _actually_ saying that to me, to add to it.”

“But you have known them for two months now, Laura! And you never even mentioned them once.” He says, throwing his arms up.

“Carmilla told you that?” You say, chuckling.

“Yeah. Was she lying?” He asks, his brow furrowing as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No.” You say, looking up at him. “We met two months ago, and then we only saw each other again three weeks later, while I was working. That’s when we actually started to know more about one another. Timothy invited me over to watch a movie with them. So, I did. I’ve been over at their place every Friday since, except for the one time they came over here. And I’ve been eating lunch with Carmilla once a week.” You let your hands fall in your lap, with a clapping sound, looking at them, before putting your hair back behind your ears and lifting your eyes to meet your father’s. “What more do you want to know, Dad?” You say, getting exasperated and angry. “We met at the grocery store. Tim had lost Carmilla, after he left to get something without telling her. I helped him search for her and she was freaking out when we found her. That’s pretty much it.”

His face softens a bit, the more you tell him, until he uncrosses his arms and hides his hands in his front pockets, his eyes now cast to the floor.

“But you probably already know all that if you questioned Carmilla earlier.” You say, rolling your eyes. “So, I really don’t get why you needed me to repeat the whole story.”

He looks up at you quickly, before his eyes settle on the fridge near you, one of his hand coming up to scratch his neck, a gesture you’ve come to know he makes when he feels uncomfortable.

“She didn’t. Tell me, I mean. I asked her, but she told me I should ask you. That you would answer if you felt like it. I’m just trying to look out for you, Laura.” He says, letting his arms fall back to his sides and giving you a sad look.

“I know that, Dad. I know you mean well, but you have to let me make my own life, make my own decisions, my own mistakes. If I need help, I promise, you’ll be the first person I go to, okay?” You say, getting down from the counter and coming closer to your father, trying to get him to look at you, instead of the floor. He gives you a small nod, before opening up his arms. You bury your face in his chest as he squeezes you to him. You feel his chest rumble as you hear him chuckle, and you lift your head to look up at him.

“Why are you laughing?” You say, putting some distance between you.

“That’s exactly what she said.” He answers.

“What, who said?” You ask, confused.

“Carmilla. What you just told me about making your own choices and everything, that’s what she said after telling me to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well she got a bit freaked out when I told her you send me bear spray, weekly, and you had me take Krav Maga lessons.” You say, after letting out a small laugh.

He snorts at that, before getting closer to your fridge and tapping a finger over something on it. “You and the kid seem pretty close.” He says, as you shift to get a better look of what he’s pointing, and see it’s Timothy’s drawing.

“He made the panther for me the first time I came over. I made him one too. Well, more like colored, but you know, same thing.” You say shrugging your shoulders. “He’s a great kid.”

“I’ve never seen you act like you do with him, with anybody else.” He says.

“Can’t say I was really around younger kids when I got older.” You say, picking up a glass from the cupboard over the sink and filling it with water. “And, I don’t know, maybe it’s just a ‘Timothy and me’ thing.” You finish, shrugging and taking a gulp of water.

“Are you and Carmilla dating?” He asks, his head tilted to the side and his eyes filled with curiosity.

You choke on the water you just drank, turning around quickly to set your glass on the counter and bending over the sink to spit out the liquid still in your mouth. You cough a few times and feel your dad pat your back, trying to help you. Once you’re able to breath properly again, you turn around to face your father, shaking your head left to right.

“No! No, we’re not.” You finally answer, still shaking your head. He chuckles, shaking his own head at your reaction, before giving you a teasing smile.

“I don’t think it would be such a bad thing, do you?” He says, passing you by and ruffling your hair at the same time, before going back to the living room.

You just stay there for a while, hands gripping the counter behind you and mouth agape. From the little interaction they had, you could tell that Carmilla and your dad didn’t really seem to like each other. And he basically just approved you _dating_ her. Which you really are not!

It takes you sometime before you’re able to get yourself back together and cross the hallway to enter the living room. Your father has taken back his seat and Tim is now leaning against Carmilla on the couch. When you get there, you scoop him up, taking his place, before putting him in your lap and circling your arms around his small body in a hug, making him giggles, which in turn, makes you smile. You shift around a bit trying to get in a comfortable position, before you lean your head on Carmilla’s shoulder. You feel her tense at first, before relaxing slightly. After a few minutes of making sure you won’t shift again, you assume, she brings her left arm up to wrap it around your shoulders. You suddenly feel exhausted, the little sleep you had in the last few days hitting you like a ton of bricks. The last thing you notice before falling asleep, is your dad looking your way with a small smile on his face, like he knows something you don’t.

 

* * *

 

The first thing you are aware of when you wake up is that you’re hurting, everywhere. Your neck is bent at a weird angle, you can’t feel your legs, at all, and your right arm is squeezed between you and another warm body. You open your eyes a bit grunting, as you try to access the situation you’re in.

You vaguely feel something moving on your legs, as you begin to regain feeling in your lower body, and look down to see Timothy curled up in your lap. The majority of his body on you, with only his head resting on Carmilla, which is actually the ‘warm body’ you’re leaning against. You lift your head from her shoulder and notice a dark spot on her shirt. Oh, gross! You freaking drooled on her! That’s just perfect! You detach yourself from her, shaking your arm a bit, while not waking the two other occupants of the couch.

You try to get up from underneath Tim as gently as you can, but still end up waking him. You pick him up, as he rubs the remnants of sleep from his eyes, and walk to the kitchen where your dad is already dressed and making breakfast. You drop Timothy in one of the four chairs around your small dinner table, before couching down next to him.

“Hey bud, do you want anything? Something to drink, maybe? Or, if you want, you can take my bed and go back to sleep?” He folds his arms on the table, before putting his chin on it, while shaking his head. “Just don’t wake your mom, okay? We don’t want her to be grouchy this early in the morning.” You say with a small smile, as you run your hand through his hair. He nods this time, before moving his head and replacing his chin with his cheek on his arms.

You kiss the top of his head, before giving your dad a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting and leaving to make a small trip to the bathroom and then to your bedroom, right on the other side of the hall, to trade your jeans and button up for some much more comfortable sweatpants and t-shirt.

When you get back to the boys, Timothy is much more awake. He’s on top of your step stool, with two glasses on the counter in front of him, attempting to fill them with apple juice. You get closer and hold them down to make sure they won’t topple over.

Once he’s finished, you take to container back from him, to place it on a shelf in the fridge, while he puts the stool back in its place. When he comes back, he gets on his tiptoes to be able to take both glasses and offers you one with a bright smile.

“Well, thank you, my kind sir.” You say as you accept the drink, tipping an imaginary hat in his direction, making him laugh, like most of the things that you do. You can’t really help it; you love that sound.

He runs back to the table, jumping on his seat as you follow behind him, managing not to spill any of his drink. You pull back a chair and sit down next to him.

“What got you in such a great mood?” You ask him, noticing the clear difference between now and fifteen minutes ago.

You hear your dad laugh behind you, before he answers the question for Timothy. “I told him I was making French toasts for breakfast, that cheered him up alright! You should have seen his face, he lit up like a Christmas tree.” He finishes, a smile on his face as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Need any help with that?” You ask, gesturing towards the counter where he’s mixing some stuff in a bowl.

“No, thanks, I’m good.” He answers. “But you guys could take care of the fruits.”

You nod before getting up from your seat and picking up the majority of your fruit drawer, putting it down on the table. You go back to the counter, taking some bowls from a cupboard before opening a drawer and grabbing a knife.

“You take these,” you say, gesturing to the plastic containers of raspberries and strawberries, “and put them in those.” You finish, placing the bowls in front of Tim.

He starts on the new task immediately, while you cut some bananas. Not long after, you find him looking up at you expectantly, waiting for you to tell him what to do next.

“Can you peel those oranges?” You say, putting two of them in front of him.

“Sure, I can even make elephants!” He answers, enthusiastically. You look at him in confusion, waiting for an explanation. “You’ll see.” He says, waving you off. You go back to what you were doing, to be interrupted a few minutes later by Timothy, once again.

“See, Laur, elephants, told you I could make some!”

True enough, on the table is the orange’s skin, now in the form of an elephant’s head. The peel has two round parts for the ears and another part replacing the trunk.

“You’ve got to show me how to do that!” You say.

“It’s pretty easy.” He says, as he starts on the second orange, explaining the steps to you, as he removes the peel delicately. “You just got to be really careful, so you don’t tear the skin in the wrong places.”

“How did you learn to do that?” You ask, curious.

“Mom showed me.” He answers. “I didn’t really like eating oranges when I was a bit younger, so she did that, which made it way more fun and I’d actually end up eating the orange.” You finish making the new elephant and cutting the fruits, before your dad lets you know breakfast is ready.

“How about you go wake up your mom, now Tim?” You ask and he gives you a nod, before running out of the room.

There’s some grunting before you hear a faint, “Tim, just let me sleep a little longer.”

“I can’t, Mom!” You hear him reply. “Laura told me to come wake you up, because breakfast is ready. We let you sleep while we made it, so you need to get up now.”

“Fine.” She grumbles.

A few seconds later, Timothy re-enters the room, dragging a still half asleep Carmilla behind him. He makes her sit in his empty seat and she immediately collapse on the table, reminding you of her son, earlier, when you brought him in the kitchen.

You laugh before saying “Morning to you too, sunshine!” You’re answered with a grunt and some unintelligible mumbling.

“I didn’t understand anything you just said, Carm. You’re gonna have to speak louder.” She huffs, before lifting her head a bit, so her mouth isn’t muffled by her arms.

“You don’t get to laugh, Cupcake. You didn’t have two people sleeping on you for most of the night. One of them, being a grown adult.” She says, her eyes blinking repeatedly, as get tries to keep them open.

“Sorry about that.” You say, your face probably bright red now, “and about the drool.” You add under your breath.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Her face, now propped up on her open palm, and her eyes on you.

“Nothing.” You quickly answer, diverting her gaze, as she narrows her eyes at you, suspiciously.

“Well, I can forgive you, _if_ you feed me some of that delicious-smelling food.” She says, after you hear her stomach grumbling.

“Like I wasn’t going to.” You answer, rolling your eyes, and earning yourself a smirk, as you put a plate in front of Tim, who has taken one of the empty chairs beside Carmilla. “You’re next.” You tell her, as you go back to your dad, waiting for him to give you another plate.

A few minutes later, you’re all sitting at the dinner table, eating breakfast. Timothy talks his way through the whole thing, mostly interacting with you and your dad, while Carmilla jumps in from time to time, reminding him not to talk with his mouth full or bringing some clarifications to some of the things he says.

Once everyone is finished, the four of you do the dishes, Tim sitting on the counter, mostly for moral support. You still finish much quicker than you had expected, and soon, Carmilla announces that Timothy and her have to leave.

“But I don’t want to go!” Timothy argues.

“It’s not a choice, Timothy. Your aunt and uncle are coming over tomorrow and _nothing_ is ready.” She says. “Plus, we need to pick up Weasley at Will’s on our way home. We don’t have anymore time to stay.”

He lets out a big exhale, before dragging his feet on the floor the whole way to the hallway closet, where his coat and boots are. You follow behind him and once he’s dressed, you kneel in front of him.

“How about, I promise you I’m gonna come visit you _at least_ once, before the end of the holidays?” You tell him. You’re answered with a vigorous nod and a bright smile, before he jumps on you, wrapping his arms around your neck. You see Carmilla behind his shoulder, giving you a grateful smile.

When he lets you go, you get up and open the front door for them. Carmilla shakes hands with your dad, and they both seem to be in a much better place than they were yesterday, when they met. She goes to cross the threshold and you roll your eyes before grabbing her arm and pulling on it, to bring her closer to you. You wrap your arms around her in a hug that she reciprocates almost immediately. She’s gotten better at it since the first time you hugged her unexpectedly.

“Thank you.” She says quietly, and you know by the tone of her voice that she means it.

“I don’t know what _exactly_ you’re thanking me for, but you’re welcome!” You answer brightly, giving her a smile.

“You know.” She says her eyes piercing yours, before her face softens and she gives you a small, genuine smile. “Happy Holidays, Laura.”

“Happy Holidays, Carm.” You say, as you close the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of this one!


	5. Unexpected Incidents and Forgotten Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what I was able to come up with. I wrote this before New Year, but I was only able to come back around to edit it in the last few days. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, most of this chapter is in Carmilla's POV and a short part is in Laura's.

You’ve been back at work for two weeks. Mostly, those have been spent trying to remind your students of what they learned in the first three and a half months before their holiday break, since they apparently forgot _everything_. It’s the same thing every year. Which means by now, it’s no surprise and you’ve gotten used to it, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying.

There’s only a few minutes left to the period before lunch, when you hear a knock on your classroom door.

“Come in!” You call out.

Betty, the school’s secretary, opens the door, only taking one step inside.

“Ms. Karnstein, can I speak to you in the hallway, please?” She says, wearing a serious expression. You nod slightly, a frown forming on your face, before getting up from your chair and following her outside, closing the door behind you.

You stand in front of her, with your arms crossed and your face devoid of emotion, trying not to show any concern over this unusual situation. Betty raises an eyebrow at your unaffected attitude, before letting out a huff and putting her hands on her hips.

“Your son’s kindergarten called. He’s sick. Wasn’t able to hold down whatever he ate for lunch. They want you to come pick him up.” She says, still looking at you with the same annoyed expression, while you struggle to keep your mask on and try to hide how worried you truly are. “I’ve already called someone to take care of the rest of your classes for the day.” She continues and you nod. It’s the closest thing she’s getting from a ‘thank you’ with everything that’s going through your head at the moment. You reach for the doorknob, but she interrupts you. “Don’t forget about the mandatory meeting tonight, Karnstein. All teachers are expected to attend, without exception.” Betty finishes, before turning around and walking away.

You get back inside closing the door behind you once again, your shoulders sagging as you run a hand through your hair and let out a sigh. You now have two problems on your hands. One, Tim’s sick and you need to pick him up to take him home and take care of him, that’s your priority. Two, before Betty reminded you, you had completely forgotten about the meeting, which means you don’t have anyone to watch over him. Mattie’s out of town for the week and Will’s been juggling two jobs at the same time, since there’s not much happening at his shop.

You go to your desk, opening your bag and putting in it the books and papers that are laying around, hastily. You’re putting your coat on, when one of your students decides to jump in, reminding you that you’re still in a classroom full of people, with about twenty-five pairs of eyes on you.

“Everything alright, Ms. K?”

“No. Timothy’s sick. I need to leave.” You answer, a bit absently, as you pull your bag over your shoulder, trying to make sure you have everything with you.

“Hope he feels better soon.” You hear someone else say, before you’re out the door.

You quickly get to the nearest set of stairs, going down to the first floor and then walking to the main doors, opening them to get outside. You’re looking down, your hand deep in your coat pocket, searching for your car keys, when you run straight into someone.

“For Christ’s sake.” You say under your breath, as you grab the other person’s arm, so they won’t fall to the ground. You don’t have time to deal with this.

“Carmilla?” You hear them say, and your head immediately shoots up, because you recognise that voice, it’s Laura’s. And you’re right. Standing in front of you is a confused Laura Hollis, both her hands gripping your forearms, in her own attempt at keeping herself upright. She’s wearing a warm winter coat with her beanie almost falling over her eyes and an impressively long scarf. She was probably able to make three turns around her neck with it. Her cheeks are red from standing outside in the cold temperature that has taken over the city over the last few days.

“You’re out early! I’m pretty sure the bell hasn’t even rung yet.” She says and you hear its sound coming from the building as she finishes her sentence.

Right. It’s Wednesday. That means lunch with Laura. You were looking forward to it this morning, but after Betty interrupted your class, you forgot all about it.

“Shit.” You say, finally letting go of Laura’s arm and bringing a hand up to rub your face. You see her features change from confused to worried in reaction to your own behavior.

“Hey. What’s going on?” She says, putting an hand on your shoulder, an unconscious gesture meant to reassure you.

“I’m so sorry, Cupcake. I can’t make it to lunch, today. I have to go get Tim.” You say quickly.

“Yeah, no! Of course! There’s no need to apologize!” She replies, her brow furrowing and her face showing even more signs of worry, now mixed with concern. “Is he okay?”

“I have no idea. He was sick, that’s all I know.” You answer, letting out a shaky breath, the air coming out of your lungs forming white, swirling fog between the two of you. She nods once, letting her hand fall from your shoulder as you walk past her to continue to make your way to your car. You turn around, walking backwards to be able to face her.

“I’ll see you later, Cupcake.” You say, talking louder so she’ll hear you.

“Sure, don’t worry about it! Let me know how he’s doing and if you guys need anything, okay?”

“Will do, Cutie!” You answer, turning back around to see where you’re going and soon reaching your destination. You unlock the doors, opening yours and throwing your bag in the passenger seat as you sit down. You put your keys in the ignition and turn them to start the car, at the same time as you grab your seatbelt with your left hand and manage to get yourself buckled up.

The trip from work to the kindergarten is a blur, you don’t remember driving there, your body is on autopilot the whole time. You only regain control of it when you park in front of the building. A few seconds later you’re inside, and before you can go much further to search for Tim, you’re stopped by the person in charge. A woman not much taller than yourself, with curly red hair and who looks constantly stressed out.

“Ms. Karnstein?” You nod in response. “Timothy’s in my office, right here.” She says, gesturing to the room she just left to intercept you. “He just fell asleep.” She continues quietly, as you both step inside.

“What happened?” You ask, crouching down next to him and running your hand over his hair lightly. Some curls stick to his skin, damp with sweat. You put your hand on his forehead gently, to check his temperature and realize he’s burning up.

“Well, according to his teacher, he wasn’t doing so good this morning. He wasn’t acting like his usual self and he seemed rather tired.” She explains, looking down at your son with concern. “Once it was time for lunch, he took a few bites, but he vomited it a short time later. We called you right after.” She says, looking at you apologetically. “Sorry we had to disturb you while you were at work.”

“That’s fine.” You say, your eyes fixed on Timothy, still sleeping. “Making sure he’s okay is more important, anyway. I’m glad you called. It looks like he has a fever.” You hear her hum in agreement behind you.

“He’s not the first one to catch something like this, it’s been running around for the past week or so.” She sounds frustrated and worried as she speaks. “I hope it’s going to be over soon and no one else gets it.” She seems to add as an after thought.

You run your knuckles lightly over Tim’s cheek. As much as you want to let him sleep and rest, you need to get him dressed to go outside and home. And you can’t do that without a bit of cooperation on his part, which means you need him awake.

He begins to stir after you repeat the gesture a few times. It takes him a couple more seconds to wake enough to be able to open his eyes. When he sees you, you give him a small, concerned smile. He opens his arms slowly, getting closer to you, before wrapping them around your neck and resting his head on your chest. One of your arms closes around his small body, as the other comes up to rub comforting circles on his back.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” You murmur in his ear.

“Not good.” You hear him mumble against you. “I want to go home, Mom.” He says. He sounds so exhausted and vulnerable, seeing him like this makes your heart ache.

“We’re getting you home, honey, I promise. But we’ve got to get you dressed before we can leave. Think you can help me with that?” You ask, and you feel him nod against you. You gather him into your arms, throwing a ‘thank you’ over your shoulder and walking to where Tim’s things are hung up. You get him into his winter clothes more easily than you have thought it would be, before taking him in your arms once again and throwing his backpack over your shoulder. You get him buckled in the car and you’re both on your way home soon after.

Once you’re in your driveway and you’ve turned the car off, you turn around in your seat to look at him. He managed to fall back asleep on the drive home and he’s looking peaceful now. After watching him for a few seconds, you get out of the car, putting both your bag and Tim’s over your shoulder, before you pick him up, closing the car door with your hip. You walk the short path to your front door of your house and succeed at unlocking and opening it with only one hand.

You close it behind you with your foot and you’re immediately greeted by Weasley, who came running in the hallway as soon as he heard you fumbling with the lock. He circles you a few times, in his excitement to see you earlier than usual.

After stepping out of your boots as best as you can and dropping the bags somewhere, you enter the living room, laying Timothy down on the couch. The dog jumps up on one end, curling up in a ball near Tim’s head, as you unzip his coat and get him rid of his boots.

Once you’re done, you sit down on the floor near his head, running your hand through his hair again. It’s something familiar, a gesture you do often that helps you calm down and think more clearly. You put your hand on his forehead to check his temperature again. You’re almost positive it’s even higher than the last time you checked.

You get up and go to the cabinet of your bathroom down the hall, finding some medicine that should stop his fever for a few hours. You wake him up so he’ll swallow the spoonful of syrup you prepared for him, before letting him go back to sleep. A few minutes pass and he begins to shake a little, chills running through him. You snatch the blanket hanging from the back of the couch, wrapping it around him, as the dog gets closer, placing his head in the crook of Tim’s neck, trying to keep him warm as best as he can.

After some time, you see the shivers subside. You know you can’t do much about the whole situation and it makes you feel useless, so any little thing you can do to help makes you feel better. You place one arm on the couch beside your son’s body, resting your head on it and closing your eyes.

 

* * *

 

Your head jerks up when you hear a knock. You’re not sure if you imagined it or if someone’s actually at the door, so you stay still for a few seconds, listening, before you hear a second one.

You get up, grumbling and stretching while you walk towards the entrance, a few joints popping back into place as you move. You unlock the door and open it, interrupting the soon to be third knock. You’re greeted by a bright, but anxious Laura, fist still mid-air waiting to connect with the wood.

“Hey.” She says softly, as she brings her arm down. She furrows her brow, observing you, before her eyes widen. “Did I just wake you?”

“Don’t worry about it, Cutie.” You reply, moving away to let her come inside.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you would be sleeping.” She says sheepishly. “It’s just that, it’s been a couple hours since I saw you at school and I didn’t have any news, so I just decided to stop by to see how Timothy’s doing. I also brought some stuff I thought might help him get better.” She continues lifting the plastic bag she’s holding in her left hand and scrunching up her face as she says the next part. “It’s pretty much just vitamins and chicken noodle soup.”

You give her a small smile, because of course Laura would have gotten even more worried not hearing anything from you and try to help out in some way. You cross your arms and lean your shoulder against the wall, looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to shed her coat and get out of her boots.

She looks at you, balancing her weight from one foot to the other, her arm still lifted a bit toward you, waiting for you to take the bag awkwardly.

“Aren’t you staying?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at her. She gives you a relieved smile, removing her hat and untangling the yellow scarf from around her neck.  She puts her stuff in her sleeve before hanging her coat on the hook next to yours, the one you’ve been thinking of as Laura’s since the second time she came over.

“Tim’s been asleep on the couch since we got back.” You tell her, as you both make your way to the living room. When you enter, Weasley opens his eyes and his tail starts thumping on the couch arm as he sees Laura. She gets closer to scratch the top of his head so he’ll calm down and won’t wake Timothy.

“What time is it?” You ask, looking around for your phone when you search your pockets and can’t find it. “Aren’t you suppose to be at work, right now?” You finish absently, as you spot it on the coffee table.

“Usually, yes! But we had a meeting this afternoon and it ended early, so they just let us go.” She answers, happily. “It’s about three-thirty, by the way.” She says, looking down at her watch at the same time as you light up your phone’s screen to see the numbers 3:28 flashing back at you.

“Fucking meeting!” You say, as you throw your head back and close your eyes tightly, a hand coming up to hide your face. Listening to Laura talk reminded you of your meeting, the one you had once again manage to forget. The one you have to leave for in less than two hours. You took care of problem one, now you need to deal with problem two.

“Well, it wasn’t so bad, I mean, we did finish early and we’re still getting paid our normal hours!” She says, looking at you confused and scrunching up her face. “And it wasn’t as boring as usual, they made three jokes in two hours and I was able to pay attention, most of the time, which is actually an improvem-.”

“No, Cupcake.” You cut her off, shaking your head and letting out a small chuckle, despite your current situation. “I wasn’t talking about your meeting, I was referring to mine. I need to be at school for five and I don’t have anyone to look after Timothy. Mattie’s away for business and William’s exhausted since he’s been working at his shop and bartending at night, there’s no way I’m asking him.” You finish, with an exasperated sigh.

“Oh.” She lets out, her face turning bright red in embarrassment as she ducks her head, trying to hide the blush. “I guess I could stay here with him. It’s not like I have anything planned for tonight” She says slowly. “Only if you’re comfortable with that, though.” Your head snaps back forward to look straight at Laura.

“You’d do that?” You ask, your voice soft and filled with hope.

She shrugs before answering. “It’s not a big deal, I’d probably stay here with you guys anyway if you didn’t have to leave.”

You nod, so now problem one and two are both dealt with, that’s good. You won’t be forced to have an awkward and tense conversation with the school’s principal about not attending the meeting. When you left high school, you thought you would never have to go to the principal’s office again, apparently you were wrong. This wouldn’t have been the first time since you started your career as a teacher.

You hear movement and look down at the couch to see Timothy beginning to stir. You and Laura both freeze, trying not to make any sound so he’ll go back to sleep, but Weasley lifts his head and decide to lick Tim’s face, starting from the top of his forehead down his nose. He grumbles, swatting at the dog blindly in an unsuccessful attempt, before opening his eyes.

“Traitor.” You say to the dog, narrowing your eyes at him. He’s not affected in the least, just watching you as he pants and looking like he’s smiling.

Timothy closes his hands to form small fists, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. He turns his head, spotting Laura still standing next to the couch. His face scrunches up in confusion, before he rubs his face with one of his arms again, trying to fix his sight.

“Laura?” He says, in a sleepy but surprised voice.

“Hey there, bud.” She replies, giving him a small smile and kneeling before him as he sits up slowly on the couch.

“Why are you home? It’s not Friday.” He asks, trying to understand what’s happening.

“Yeah, well, I saw your mom earlier, before she picked you up and she told me you were sick, so I came by to see how you were doing.” She answers softly. “Plus, she has a meeting tonight, so I’m the one staying with you until it finishes and she’s back home. How does that sound?”

“Sounds great.” He says, with a tired voice, before leaning forward slowly and wrapping his arms around Laura’s neck loosely. “We’re not eating candies tonight, okay though? Because I’m not feeling really good.”

“No candies or anything sugary for you, promise.” She answers, chuckling. “I brought some chicken noodle soup, though. Does that sound any better?” She asks Tim and he nods slightly against her.

“I’ll go get started on that, since you didn’t really eat anything for lunch.” She replies, trying to get up to go to the kitchen, but Timothy’s still holding onto her. “Tim, you’re gonna have to let go of me, if you want to put something in that small belly of yours.” She continues teasingly. He only shakes his head, not moving. “Fine, then. I’m taking you with me.” She picks him up in her arms, before finally standing up and crossing the hallway to get to the kitchen, taking the plastic bag on her way.

You’re now alone in the living room with the dog for only company. You look back at him and it only takes a second, before he gets down from the couch, trotting pass you and exiting the room.

When you enter the room, Timothy’s sitting on a stool, his cheek on top of his arms, watching Laura go around, opening cupboards here and there to find what she’ll need to make the soup. You come to stand next to your son, rubbing his back softly.

“You doing any better than when I picked you up?” You ask. He nods as best as he can, with the position his neck is in. You lift your head to look in Laura’s direction. “You’re okay there, Cupcake? You’ll be able to handle this?” You ask her, as she fills a cooking pot with water from the tap.

“Yeah, of course!” She says looking back at you over her shoulder.

“Good. Well, then, I’ll go take a shower and get ready to leave.” You say, letting out a sigh, before walking out of the room and going upstairs.

 

* * *

 

Carmilla’s been gone for about ten minutes, when you and Timothy both finish your supper. He’s doing a bit better now that he has eaten. His face has regained a bit more color and he seems to have some energy, which is already better than when you first got here. You take your plates and bowls, putting them in the dishwasher, before turning back to him.

“So, what do we do, now?” You ask him. He just looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to make a suggestion. “Okay?” You say, dragging out the word. “Well, what do you want to do?” He just shrugs, still staring at you. “What do you usually do on weeknights?” You try again.

“I don’t know.” He says, lifting his shoulders again. “I draw. I read. I sometimes watch television. Play games with Mom. I put stickers on her students’ papers, it makes them happy.”

You exhale, apparently Tim isn’t of great help when it comes to making decisions, in this state. “I’d really want to help right now Tim, but I have no idea what you feel like doing.” You tell him.

As soon as you finish your sentence, you see his face light up. “Did you think of something?” You ask, curious about the sudden change. He nods before telling you to go wait for him in the living room, leaving the kitchen to go somewhere else in the house, the dog following behind him, eagerly.

A few minutes later after you switch rooms, they come back, Timothy with both hands behind his back, hiding something. He gives you a small, unsure smile before beginning to talk.

“I thought you might be able to help me with something.” He says, bringing his hands in front of him, so you’re able to see what he’s holding. “Aunt Mattie gave me a tablet and some headphones for Christmas and Mom tried to get them to work together, but she wasn’t able to. So, since you fix all kinds of stuff, I thought maybe you’d be able to fix this too.” He continues with hopeful eyes.

You smile at the request and his almost shy demeanor. You’re not used to him acting like this, he’s been open and enthusiastic around you since you met, so it’s quite a change. You decide to attribute this behavior on him being sick.

“Yeah, sure! Come here, let me take a look at it.” You say, patting the space next to you, on the couch. He sits down, transferring the things he’s holding to you. You inspect the headphones noticing they’re wireless. You turn them on, before powering the tablet and going in the settings to connect both objects together. Once it’s done, you put them over your ears, tapping on a random song, so it’ll start to play, making sure everything is working. You nod in satisfaction and give the two items back to Timothy.

“There you go, kid. All fixed under two minutes.” You say, shaking your head and chuckling. “I’m really starting to think I should give a Technology 101 lesson to your mom.”

“I think that would be a good idea.” He replies, smiling at you, as he leans back against the couch and puts his headphones on.

You let him do his thing, while you get up and walk to the bookcases on each side of the TV. You’ve always been curious about the kind of books Carmilla keeps around, but you’ve never really had the chance to check them out. You let your eyes glide over the books’ spines, trying to read the different titles. You’re pretty sure your eyebrows go up to your hairline when you see some books in various languages, most of which you don’t even recognise. You spot L’Étranger by Albert Camus. You remember reading it for one of your classes, your first year of college, it wasn’t so bad. You continue looking and find the English version a few books down. ‘Why not?’ you tell yourself, before picking it up. You get back to the couch and opening it to start reading.

A few hours as passed when you finally close the book, more than half way through it, before putting it on the coffee table. You look down to your wrist to check the time, noticing there’s only a couple minutes left until eight. You softly place a hand on Tim’s arm, trying to get his attention.

“Your mom said you need to be in bed by eight, we still need to put you in some PJ’s and brush your teeth.” You say, getting up from the couch, before standing up too, leaving his things next to your book and following after you. “We also need to stop by the kitchen, so you take your next dose of medicine to keep your fever under control.

Ten minutes later, he’s ready for bed. You’re both in his room, Timothy already snuggled under his covers when he asks you to read him a book to help him fall asleep. You go pick up one randomly from his small bookcase, before going back near the door to close the light, only letting the small lamp on his bedside illuminate the room.

You go sit down next to him, throwing your head back in an attempt to get rid of the strands of hair that keeps falling in your face. When you look up though, you see dozens of small fluorescent starts stuck to the ceiling.

“Wow…” You let out softly. The sound gets Timothy’s attention, making him look in the same direction you are to see what surprised you so much.

“Mom made that.” He explains. “She really likes the stars; she finds them comforting. So, she put them up there for me. They’re real constellations, she talks about them all the time, telling me stories so I’ll remember them.”

You admire them for a few more seconds, before opening the book still in your lap. You begin to read, letting out a yawn every couple minutes. The more pages you turn, the heavier your eyelids feel. You’re more than half way through the story when you decide to close your eyes for a short time, just to rest for a few seconds.

 

* * *

 

You unlock the front door, only to be greeted by silence. You step further inside the house getting rid of your winter coat, before looking into the living room, trying to find Laura. When you don’t see her, you check the rest of the rooms, with no success. You furrow your brow in confusion, going up to the second floor, trying to be as silent as you can, making sure to step on the right places, so the steps won’t crack when you put your weight on them.

You get to Timothy’s room and open the door softly. You’re not sure what you were expecting to see once you were in the room, but this isn’t it. You find your son sitting in bed still awake, going through the pages of a book with a very dead to the world Laura sitting next to him, her head thrown back and resting on the headboard behind her. Tim looks up when he hears you.

“Sorry, Mom.” He says, sheepishly. “I wasn’t able to sleep.”

“It’s okay.” You reply, coming closer and kissing his forehead. You look back at Laura and let out a chuckle. “This one didn’t seem to have any problem falling asleep, though. What are we going to do with her?” You let out the last part softly.

“I decided we’re keeping her around.” He says.

“Oh, yeah?” You reply, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “You decided that?”

“Yes. She knows a lot of things you don’t. She even took care of my new headphones. And I really like her.” He responds, looking up from his book to you, his eyes falling on yours. “I know you do too. She makes you happier and she makes me happier. That’s why we’re keeping her around. We’ve known her for some time now too, so there’s no point in letting her go anymore.” He says with what sounds like finality. “Unless she decides to leave on her own.”

You shift your gaze towards Laura as she lets out a small snore and think about how worried she seemed when you answered the door earlier this afternoon.

“I’m pretty sure she’s not going anywhere anytime soon, sweetheart. At least, I hope not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are always welcome, everytime I see one it pretty much makes my day!
> 
> I don't know when I'll be able to update next. I'm starting school again soon and I'll be working almost every weekends for the next couple months, since we finally got some snow up here, in Canada. So, I don't know how much free time I'm gonna have on my hands. 
> 
> Anyways, until next time, guys. Take care!


	6. Saturday Mornings and Snow Forts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This happens two weeks after Laura babysat Timothy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, you guys! It's been like forever and to be honest, I don't have a good excuse. I had had an idea of what I wanted to do with this chapter for awhile, but when it came to put it down on paper, I just couldn't do it the way I wanted to. I get tired of things easily and when it didn't work, I just got fed up. So, I rewrote this chapter entirely, on a completely different idea. For those of you still here, I really hope you like it and I don't disappoint. Please, let me know your thoughts!

A little over two weeks has passed since you fell asleep at Carmilla’s place… In Timothy’s bed… While you were supposed to babysit him. Totally responsible, you are. When you woke up, _the next day_ , of what you initially thought was a short nap, you, let’s just say, kind of freaked out a bit.

The room was empty, you were taking up the whole bed to yourself and Tim was nowhere to be seen, if you weren’t fully awake before, that did it. You had no idea how he could have left without you knowing, you would have sworn you had just been unconscious for five minutes. Okay, ten minutes top. You threw the door open and ran down the stairs, almost breaking your neck as you missed the last few steps. You put your head through the living room doorway, trying to find the kid as quickly as possible. Still not seeing him, you changed direction and went down the corridor heading for the kitchen and hoping you’d have better luck. You did not want to have to tell Carmilla you lost her only child. You’re supposed to be the one who helped get them back together, not the other way around!

You were already imagining horrible scenarios, of where Timothy could possibly be and how you would announce the news to his mother when you entered the room. You lifted your head, to see the both of them looking at you, probably alerted by your rather loud arrival from the second floor. Tim was sitting at the counter, mid sip of orange juice, while Carmilla was placing something back in the fridge, the two of them already dressed. That’s when it actually hit you that you might have slept a tiny bit (and by that, you mean a whole lot) longer than you had thought.

As soon as your brain registered that they were both really there and alive, and Timothy was not somewhere getting himself eaten by… vampires (not a very logical explanation for his disappearance, but the possibility did come to mind), you let out a huge exhale, leaned your back against the door frame behind you, and buried your face in your hands. Less than two seconds later, you had already started rambling your way through an apology.

 “I am _so_ sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep, _I swear_! We were looking at the plastic stars on the ceiling, and then I started reading a story, and I… I just…” Carmilla interrupted you, laughing softly, and shaking her head at your nervous effort to apologies.

“Laura, you’re fine, it’s fine, everybody’s fine! You just fell asleep, nothing bad happened, he was in bed when I got home. Besides, you weren’t even supposed to take care of him. You were kind enough to offer your help. You definitely won’t hear me complaining.”

“You’re sure you’re not mad?” you asked, with a small voice, still apprehensive of her reaction, as you walked further into the room, slowly sitting down in the seat next to Timothy.

“Yeah.” She answered chuckling. “You had a long day and you fell asleep. These things happen.” Your shoulders finally sagged in relief, most of the tension leaving your body. You folded your arms and let your forehead drop on the cold counter, groaning. “That was a too stressful way to start the day.” You mumbled in your arms.

“Well, I don’t mean to make this morning even worst for you, but we’re leaving in about five minutes. I’m pretty sure you’re late for work.” Carmilla said looking at you and cringing, as you quickly lifted your head up at the mention of work, before looking down at your wrist to check the time. You were indeed going to be late to the office. You closed your eyes tightly, before a “Oh, crap!” escaped your mouth and you let your head fall again.

After staying in that position for a few seconds, you stood up quickly, squeezing Timothy to you, and petting the dog as you walked around the counter. You threw your arms around Carmilla’s neck, before your still sleepy brain could think more of it, hugging her as you stood on your tiptoes. You were already halfway down the corrido, grabbing your stuff, when you shouted your goodbye.

“I’ll see you guys later! Have a nice day, you two!”

It’s Saturday morning now, and you’re jogging outside. You’re lost in your thoughts, your nose frozen by the cold air, both earphones in, the music isolating you even further from the world around you. Your brain doesn’t register the faint barking in the distance getting louder every second. When you turn your head, trying to locate where the sound is coming from, it’s too late. The dog jumps on you, making you lose your balance and fall on your back in the snow. It doesn’t take long before the dog starts to eagerly lick your face. You wrinkle your face in disgust, pushing the dog away as best as you can, before you notice the familiar tag hanging from his collar. You haven’t gotten a chance to have a good look at the dog, but now you notice the bright copper fur between your fingers, and you know you’re making no mistake.

You let your arms drop down, as you firmly say, “Weasley, down!” The dog obeys right away, laying on the ground next to you, barking happily. You let your head fall back in the snow, eyes closed. You can feel Weasley moving your hand with his muzzle, trying to get your attention as his tail beats a rhythm on your leg.

Before you have the opportunity to get up or open your eyes, another weight falls on top of your stomach, momentarily preventing you to breathe properly. You hear Timothy calling your name at the same time as small arms circle your waist in an effort to hug you. You try to return the gesture, wrapping your own arms loosely around him as you catch your breath.

“What are you doing here?” you ask softly, still not fully recovered from the two unexpected attacks, even though ultimately both were welcomed. You look around you trying to spot Carmilla from where you are on the ground. “Where’s your mom, kid?”

He moves around a little to be able to see you, still holding onto you, before lifting his head and placing it on your stomach, opening his mouth the answer your questions, but a loud voice that definitely doesn’t belong to Carmilla cuts in.

“Guys, you can’t go around jumping on strangers, what is wrong with you two?” You’re now able to see the person the voice belongs to. Even upside down, you can’t help but notice there’s something familiar about him, like you’ve seen him before. He looks at Timothy with an incredulous look, “I can get his reaction,” he continues gesturing to the dog, “but yours?” He closes his eyes and pinches his nose, before taking a breath which seems to make him calm down. When he looks back at Timothy still half laying on you, his face hard and serious. “We’re not telling anything about what just happened to your mother. Got it?”

“You realize I’m not an actual stranger, right?” you say, from bellow him. If this is how he handles the situation, you can only imagine how awkward this would have been for someone who indeed doesn’t know them. He looks at you for the first time since he got here, confused. You don’t know if the confusion comes from what you said or from the fact that you’re there, which he seems to have forgotten about. You huff, in frustration before lightly tapping Tim on the back a few times, in a silent message to let you get up. He understands quickly getting up to his feet and you follow soon after him. You readjust the hat on your head which had nearly come off, extending a hand towards Will. You were able to recognized him from the various photos that keep changing on Carmilla’s refrigerator and his unmistakable similarity to his sister, both in his appearance and mannerisms.

“I’m Laura, by the way. I’m a friend of- “

 “Mircalla.” He finishes, brow furrowed and looking intently at you with something similar to wonder. After a while you let your arm drop back to your side. It doesn’t take long before Timothy’s glued to your side, his gloved hands holding onto one of yours. Will looks down at the movement, his head tilted as he observes the two of you, before directing his gaze back to you.

“You’re an actual person.” He says in a soft voice, and you can’t help but notice how genuinely surprised he seems as he voices that thought. Your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes get wide.

“Yeah, I would certainly hope so! I _am_ standing in front of you right now, this isn’t some figment of your imagination! And so far in my life, everything seems to prove I’m a real person too. I’m also almost a hundred per cent positive I’m human, unless one of my parents is from Gallifrey and hid it from me all this time, which would be unlikely, since I don’t actually have two hearts, I forced my doctor to check when I was a kid.” Apparently, your answer doesn’t seem to help. He seems to be even more confused now, and is starting to look at you like you’re an actual alien.

“That was probably not the best way to introduce yourself to someone, especially if said person is unconvinced you’re a human being.” You mutter under your breath.

“I didn’t understand most of what you just said, but I can see how you could have perceived that last comment. What I meant was that Carmilla didn’t lie about you. See, Carmilla doesn’t talk much about her personal life, especially not relationships, even to us, her siblings. There were vague allusions here and there to someone named Laura, but I just thought she made you up, so that Mattie would leave her alone.” He explains, shrugging before his expression suddenly changes. “Now, that I think about it, it actually makes a lot more sense. Timothy always talks about having a friend coming over. But you’re the new friend.” He shakes his head like things are so much clearer now. “I thought it was weird that Kitty was okay with having another child at her place. She doesn’t deal with children that aren’t her own very well.” He finishes quietly with a hand of the side of his mouth, like he’s telling you a secret and doesn’t want Timothy to hear what he’s saying.

You look at him perplex for a few seconds, still unsure about something he said at the beginning of his explanation. You open your mouth, before closing it again. It takes a few more try for you to be able to formulate something coherent both in your mind and out loud.

“Hmm, did you just say that Carmilla told _you_ she was in a relationship with _me_?” His eyes double size as he sputters trying to correct his mistake.

“That’s not what I meant to say, and that’s not what Carmilla told us, I could have probably formulated that better. Mattie was fussing about our sister’s lack of social life, that’s when you were brought on the subject. She mentioned she was ‘hanging out’ with someone, her words not mine, and to stop putting our noses in other people’s business.” He stops abruptly, taking a deep breath and looking at you expectantly, waiting to see if his explanation would satisfy you.

“Right. Yeah. That... actually… makes, more sense.” You answer shaking your head and letting out a nervous chuckle. Because really, why would Carmilla have told her brother and sister you were in a relationship, you guys are _just_ friends. You don’t understand why this freaked you out so much.

“I’m really sorry, you kind of got, attacked by us, this morning. I can assure you it was definitely not planned. It was just as unexpected for me, as it was for you.” He apologies, wincing slightly at the memory of what just happened a few minutes ago. “It’s nice to finally be able to put a face on Carmilla’s imaginary friend though, or well, her real, alive, I believe we establish human, friend.” He says, a small, tentative smirk forming on his face, as he teases you. You let out a genuine laugh, more at ease now, that most of the awkward talk and weird theories are out of the way. “I’m Will.” He says, finally extending a hand in front of him to introduce himself. You happily shake his hand, giving him one of your bright smile.

You feel Timothy tugging lightly at your hand, trying to get your attention now that the serious conversation with his uncle seems to be over. “What’s up, bud?”

“Can you come play with us now?” He asks sweetly, and with a hopeful face. “We were trying to build a fort in the park, when Weasley saw you.” From the corner of your eyes, you notice Will preparing to intervene, so you won’t feel obligated to stay and be able to go back to your day. You start talking before he has the time to let out a word.

“You know, what? I’d actually love to. I was almost done with my jogging anyway, and I can’t remember the last time I made a fort!” You answer, enthusiastically, before looking down at your freezing legs. “I’m not wearing snow pants though, and these” you gesture to the pants you currently have on, “kind of got soaked, after _Weasley,_ ” you look pointedly at the dog, tongue hanging out of his mouth, without a care in the world, “throw me in the snow. My apartment is only a couple minutes, so if you give me the time to go change, then I can come back and help you guys!”

He nods eagerly up at you and you leave them quickly, coming back twenty minutes or so later, fully dressed to play in the snow. The three of you work for a few hours on the fort, trying to make it big enough so you can all be inside at the same time. You and Will transport the blocks of snow that Timothy isn’t able to lift himself, which is most of them, trying to make the walls as high as possible and making small holes in them to be able to look outside.

At some point, Tim’s stomach begins to grumble and Will suggests going back to the house for lunch, an idea his nephew agrees with immediately. You start your walk towards Carmilla’s home, Will taking care of the dog, with Timothy between the two of you. A few minute passes, before you notice him rubbing his eyes and zigzagging slightly while walking. You stop and call him back to you, as you crouch down.

“Come on, bud! Hop on!”

“You know I can carry him if you want, I hadn’t realized he was tired, that’s all.” Will offers from next to you, watching as Timothy wraps his arms around your neck and you get back up, holding onto his legs.

“Don’t worry about it.” You answer dismissively, as you shake your head. “It’s not the first time something like this happens, so we’ve got experience dealing with this together. Isn’t it right, Tim?”

You feel him nod slowly, before he lets his head rest on your shoulder. You make him jump a little to settle him higher on your back and have a better grip on him as you start walking again. It doesn’t take long before you notice he completely dosed off. Will has been silent for most of the walk so far, when you turn a little to look over at him, he’s got his brow furrowed and is looking down at the sidewalk in concentration. You just met him, you have no way to know if this is just part of his personality or if something’s bothering him. You decide to take a shot, either way you’ve got nothing to lose.

“You okay?” you ask looking right in front of you, instead of directly at him. That seems to get him out of his thoughts. He shakes his head softly and blinks a few times.

“Hum, yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I zoned out there for some time, I was just thinking.”

You nod once, acknowledging his answer, before the silent comes back again. Your intervention just made things awkward, you’re starting to regret saying anything, when you hear him clear his throat.

“I noticed that the two of you seem to be kind of close.”

“Oh, well, yeah. It’s been nearly three months, I think, since we met.” You say that like you’re not sure, like you don’t know you met Carmilla and him exactly three months and one day ago. You don’t count the days or anything, you’re not weird like that, it’s just that the date has kind of stayed stuck in your head. “Besides, we’ve been seeing each other almost every week, I’m pretty sure it helps people get to know one another and feel more comfortable. We first bonded over sugary stuff, it’s tough not to get along with somebody after that.” You say, jokingly.

“Three months. Wow, that was before Christmas.” He says, apparently caught off guard. “You’ve been around for three months?”

“Yes. That’s, what I just said. They actually came over a few days before Christmas, they had to leave early the next morning though because they were celebrating with you and your sister, and the house wasn’t ready, I think.” You say brow furrowed in concentration, trying to remember exactly why Carmilla had said they had to leave.

He stops walking abruptly, throwing an arm in front of you, also forcing you to stop. You turn around to face him, waiting to understand his reaction.

“Dude!” he says, way too loudly in your opinion, which annoys you a bit, because ‘Bro!’ you have a sleeping child on your back and you don’t want to wake him up, if possible. “That means she trusts you!” you look at him, expecting him to add something else, but that’s it. Looks like that was his point.

“Who trusts me?” you ask, because you’re not sure you follow his reasoning.

“Carmilla! You know, my sister!” He says, mocking you a little, for not understanding, when he’s the one that was unclear.

“Well, I would certainly hope so. I babysat Timothy, like two weeks ago. It would be weird if she’d let me do that, but didn’t trust me. I’d question her skills as a parent.”

“What!?” he exclaims loudly.

“Can you keep your voice down!” you whisper, before pointing your head as best as you can in Tim’s direction. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s sleeping.”

“Sorry.” He says, cringing and wearing a guilty expression. You relax a bit at what appears to be a genuine apology. “It’s just, do you know how long it took, before she left me alone with him, without her being in the next room? Years! Not three months! Years! And she’s known me all my life, I’m her brother.” You laughed at him, before noticing he doesn’t seem to understand what it is he just said you found funny. You roll your eyes before starting to walk again. You hear him follow you, snow crunching under your boots.

“I am pretty sure that’s exactly why she didn’t trust you with him.” You say giving him a side glance. “I heard about some of the things the two of you did. Not sure, I would have trusted you with my baby either.”

“Because trusting a complete stranger is so much better.” He grumbles, probably not meaning for you to hear it.

“Hey! I’m no stranger anymore, okay?” You say turning towards him. “Plus I proved myself!” you say, thinking back on how you met them. “And he’s not a baby anymore, maybe if he still were, she would have left me alone with him either, thought about that?” you suggest.

He looks down at his feet, ashamed of his reaction after what you just said. “Sorry, it’s just, didn’t seem fair.” He says, in lieu of explanation.

“After having to name my kid after you, I’d probably try to keep them away from you too.” You joke, bumping your shoulder against his, and earning yourself a smile.

“That was such a great day! You should have seen the look on her face. It was priceless.” He laughs, shaking his head at the memory. “By the way, what did you mean by you ‘proved yourself’?” He asks, curiously.

You exhale before answering, “I’m… not so sure _I_ should tell you about that.”

“Oh, really?” He says, lifting his eyebrows. “That bad, eh?”

“No. It’s not bad. It’s just, you know…”

“No, I don’t actually. But I have a pretty great imagination and I’m fairly sure I’ll come up with theories way worse than the real thing, so…” He says, looking at you to gauge your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay! Fine! Carmilla and Timothy just kind of got… separated, at the grocery store, and I found Tim, and like any good person would have, I helped him search for her. And like you can see, we _did_ find her!” You nod your head, satisfied by your short explanation.

“Wait. You’re telling me, that my sister lost her own kid in a store?” He asks. You begin to reconsider your decision of telling what happened, when you notice the huge smile he’s now wearing on his face.

“I probably shouldn’t have said that.” You say, thinking you finally know how Hagrid felt every time he let something slip to the golden trio.

“This is the best!”

“No, it’s not! Please, don’t tell Carm I said that!” You beg.

“Oh, I’m sorry Laura! It’s has nothing to do with you, but I’m totally throwing you under the bus on this one. I’m never letting her live that down. I can’t wait for Mattie to hear about this!”

“What? No, there is no telling Mattie! You shouldn’t even know any of this. I take it back!”

“No, too late. That’s not how it works.” He says, shrugging with that annoying smirk on his face, feeling no remorse whatsoever.

“You won’t say anything! Otherwise, I’m telling Carmilla, you told me that she said we were in some kind of relationship!” You say, as a last ditch effort.

“First,” he says, raising a finger, “I said no such thing, that’s just how you interpreted what I said, which actually says more about you than me.” He tilts his head and give you a look, eyebrow raised.

“What? That is not-“

“Second, by bringing that up you’re just making things awkward for all of us, especially the two of you. Carmilla will not like this one bit. She hates when people try to tell her how she feels or rush her into telling it.” You start pouting, as you feel the defeat coming closer every second. He looks at you with an unimpressed expression, before shaking his head.

“This look might work on my sister, but it’s definitely not doing anything for you right now.” He says, before pausing, starting to talk again when he sees you’re about to protest. “Finally, between having to keep the information you just gave me to myself for the rest of my life, or having to face the wrath of my sister for whatever time it’s going to take her to get over it and being able to throw in her face that she lost my nephew any time I want, the choice is fairly simple. Just to clarify, I happily take the second option.”  

“Don’t you think it’ll get old at some point, and you’ll just get tired of it?” You try.

“Oh,” He says, giving you a look again, “never!” You exhale loudly and let your head fall in defeat.

The next time you look up, you’re right in front of Carmilla’s house. That’s also when you realize you were never invited here. When Will asked Timothy if he wanted to go home, you just followed them without really thinking about it. You stop before the driveway as Will is reaching the path to the front door. He turns around when he notices you’re not following him anymore.

“What are you doing?” He says, after a few seconds, giving you a weird look.

“I, didn’t ask if I could come.” You say, trying to find a way to get out of this situation. He rolls his eyes, before coming back to you, grabbing one of your arms softly, to make sure you’re not losing your grip on Timothy and drags you with him.

“You said you were here once a week anyway, what’s the difference?” he asks.

“The difference is I’m _expected_ , I’m _welcomed_. I don’t want to intrude.” You add softly, as you stop once again.

“Come on! It’s gonna be fine! I promise you won’t be intruding or anything like that. And anyway, it seems like Kitty has a soft spot for you.” He teases, giving you a smile and poking you in the arm, trying to be encouraging. He grabs you by the sleeve of your coat to get you to make a few more steps, but you don’t budge this time around.

“Just, give me one second.” You say, taking the end of your glove in your mouth to get it off, before taking your phone out of your pocket and texting Carmilla. This might not be the ideal thing to do, but it’s better than showing up unannounced on her porch, and the only other option you can think of is turn around to go back to your apartment.

_Cupcake:  
Would it be okay with you if I came by your place?_

Will looks at you curiously as you wait for an answer, but it doesn’t take long for the phone to vibrate in your hand. You look down at it to read Carmilla’s answer.

_Carm:  
Sure, Cupcake. Just a heads up, I have people over today, though._

You actually already met the ‘people’ she has over anyway, you’re currently _with_ him.

“So, everything’s good now? We can go inside?” Will asks. “Because I’m starting to freeze over here.”

You nod before you both start walking again. Once you reach the front door, you see Will reaching for the knob, you slap his hand away, earning yourself an indignant ‘Hey!’ You look at him right in the eyes as you say, “This is going to be weird enough, that I show up out of the blue with you, I am not just waltzing right in like that. We are knocking and waiting for Carm to come open the door.” You continue looking at him pointedly, to get your point across, until he raises both hands in surrender, gesturing you toward the door. You take a breath and you finally knock. A few seconds pass before you hear noises on the other side of the door. It opens and Carmilla’s in front of you, looking at you with shock on her face.

“I was close by when I texted.” You tell her sheepishly, earning a snort from Will.

“What she means by that is she was in the driveway, freaking out.” He replies and you shoot him a glare, whispering “Shut up!” in his direction.

“Wait, what?” Why are you carrying Timothy?” She asks shaking her head in confusion, and gesturing to the child on your back.

“Oh, he’s just asleep by the way, he’s not hurt or anything. After a few minutes of walking he was tired, so I picked him up.” You explain, apparently complicating things even further for her.

“So, you guys didn’t just happen to get here at the same time?” She asks, trying to make sense of the situation.

“We ran into each other at the park.”

“Correction! Your dog ran straight to her and threw her on the ground!” Will interjects again.

“That’s a minor detail.” You mumble.

“We spent the whole day together, building a fort for Timothy. And we talked. _A lot!_ ” Will adds, grinning up at his sister.

“Okay. That can’t be good. What’d you say to him, Cupcake?” She looks at you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t think he’d use it against you, I swear! I just thought he was curious. I would have never told him otherwise!” You say as quickly as possible, already trying to do damage control, as you shoot Will another glare.

“She said a thing or two about how you guys met.” He says, excitement showing on his face.

“Sorry?” you say, unsure of her reaction. She looks between the two of you before letting out a sigh and shrugging. “Well, this was going to happen at some point anyway, so now it’s done.” That’s it, that’s all she says about it. You’re pretty sure that’s not how either you or Will had seen this going.

“Wait? You’re not like, mad or anything?” you ask, surprised.

“No, I’m not. I know my brother pretty well and he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, Cupcake. He probably messed with your head to get you to say that, he’s fairly good at it. That, combine with the fact you talk easily, this situation was inevitable.”

“Well, you just ruined part of my fun with that awful reaction, can we get in now, it’s cold outside and I don’t know about Laura, but if I were the one who would have carried Tim all this way, I’d be tired by now.” He says, throwing a thumb in your direction.

“Oh, yeah! Shit! Sorry!” She says, her eyes widening as she looks back at you, before she moves to let you pass, Will following closely behind you.

“I like her, Kitty. She’s a lot of fun, you should have her around more often, or at least when I’m here.” He says as he removes his coat.

“Oh, so you can learn some more of my deepest, darkest secret?” She says, moving to go stand against the door frame of the living room, eyebrow raised. She gives you a quick look before gesturing with her head towards the room next to her. You get the message and follow her inside, helping to get Timothy off your back and on the couch.

“Definitely, that!” You hear him say from the corridor. “But I also want to share some of the horrible things that she doesn’t know about you yet with her. Remember the time you got some purple and red streaks of hair?”

You look over at her questioningly, but she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her little brother’s antics. You still spot a tiny smile at the corner of her lips, though. You chuckle, turning around to leave the room, but you’re stopped by her hand on your arm. You face her and your eyes meet, before you know what’s happening you’re wrapped in a hug, and an earnest “Thank you” is murmured in your ear. You circle your arms around her waist, tightening the embrace and only letting go when you feel her grip on you loosen. You immediately miss her warmth, even though you’re still clad in your winter gears. “For taking care of him, both times.” She finishes. “I didn’t get to say it last time.” You nod, absently at her.

This is the first time she makes the first move to hug you, and you won’t lie, it felt wonderful. You can only hope there’s a lot more of those to come, because there’s something different about her being willing to initiates the embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone is interested in kicking my butt, so it won't take me 8 months to update again or just to come and chat, you can find me at carelloue.tumblr.com
> 
> I am sorry if there's any mistakes, I edit my own things, and when I'm tired I write weird stuff (I'm like super tired right now, so sorry in advance).
> 
> PS: To the first person that asked me about the next update way back, I'm so sorry it took so long!
> 
> Have a great week, friends!


	7. Lunch Breaks and High School Teachers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't expect me to update this quickly! (I certainly didn't.) Not so sure about this one but I hope you like it. 
> 
> Please, leave a comment if you can, I love them, I get super excited everytime I see I have one! Constructive comments are also very welcome.

It’s Thursday, which means you’re at work again, but if you could have, you would have taken the day off. It’s not that you don’t love your job, being able to share something you’re passionate about is wonderful. But there’s this point in the year when teachers and students are just both in need of a break. That time just before spring break, where students are under mountains of exams and works to hand in and all the teachers have unending piles of papers to correct.

This last week has pretty much been exams and essays in an infinite loop, which also means you have had about zero real interactions with your students. It’s almost exclusively been questions about their theses or about the exams. The more interesting it got was when everyone started to share their plans for the break, but that only managed to make you wish the day could go faster.

Tomorrow afternoon will mark the start of this year’s spring break, and just like your students, you can’t wait for this well-deserved ‘vacation’. Spending a week in your home with Timothy, without having to get up early in the morning, or having to leave the house every day. Laura coming over to watch a movie or just stopping by on her way back home, which these days, ends up with her staying for dinner more often than not. You actually had to talk to Mr. Hollis recently. He insisted to speak with you, so you could assure him his daughter had been eating balanced meals since the last time he saw her. It only took a few seconds to reassure him so he would drop the subject.

Things with you and Laura have been going really well since she unexpectedly came over at your place that Saturday morning. You don’t know why, but you thought the next time you would see Laura, things would be awkward after you hugged her. But it only got better from then on. She was still the same Cupcake, but somehow with an even bigger smile than you were used to and eyes a little shinier than usual. That’s when you realized your friendship would only get weird if you started to act strangely and get awkward about things. You’re not really into physical contact, unless it’s with people you care about and trust. With Laura however things had been different from the very beginning. Initiating that hug had been your way of letting your friendship progress and to show you care about her.

So, a week with Tim and as much as Laura’s time you’ll be able to get, sounds incredible right now. However, there’s still two days to go before that can be possible.

Your students are currently finishing to write their essays, and you’re sitting behind your desk, eyes almost constantly glued to the clock ticking away on the opposite wall. You’ve been watching the smaller hand rotate slowly, so slowly that you would think the clock is broken if you didn’t know better. You are so focused on time, your perspective of it has changed, making one minute seem like five.

Your gaze drops once again to the screen in front of you. At the start of the period, you had opened up a document with your outline for the rest of the year, in the hope of finally completing it. The only progress on it, has been a line of eight ‘i’s due to dropping your hand on the keyboard by accident. The cursor is blinking endlessly, waiting for you to write something.

You let out a sigh before letting your head fall in your hands. You haven’t been able to concentrate at all since the beginning of the day, doing absolutely nothing productive. You can’t resist long before your eyes are once again drawn to the clock like a magnet. Fortunately, only a few minutes remain to the class. Which mean you’ve lost about an hour of your time, alternating between fixing the clock or the almost blank computer screen. The sound of the bell is finally heard, before it’s replaced by chairs scraping the floor, students hurrying to hand in their essays, before leaving the room to change books and head to their next class, probably another exam waiting for them. It’s the last time you’ll see this specific group before the week off, so you try to wish them all a nice spring break, some of them reciprocate, others seem so stressed and stuck in their own head, you don’t even think they hear you.

Once the room is completely empty, you pick up the mug that’s been sitting on the corner of your desk since you finished your coffee, before getting up and going to the teacher’s room to pour yourself a second cup. Maybe with some luck and two cups of coffee in you, you’ll be able to concentrate long enough to get some work done.

When you enter the room, the place is mostly empty, a teacher with a free period here and there, probably getting a head start on the stack of papers to grade. Due to the obvious lack of activity, your presence doesn’t go unnoticed. They all look up, to see who just stepped inside. As soon as they see it’s you, they go back to what they had been doing.

You made it a rule, to try not to speak to your colleagues unless absolutely necessary, and by now, they’ve learn you don’t want to engage in a conversation with them. Sure, they tried at the start of the school year, but between being blatantly ignored or being answered with one of your sarcastic remark, they understood it was better for them to just stop trying and leave you alone. You’re not one for small talk, and unless something affects your class or one of your student directly, you have absolutely no interest in hearing about it. The only staff member you tolerate is the bio teacher whose experiments go wrong at least once a month, resulting in pretty much being a danger for themselves and their students. The school already had to evacuate twice because of them since the beginning of September. Not that the students are complaining since they get to see ‘cool stuff!’

As soon as you’ve filled your cup, you don’t waste time going back to your classroom before the next batch of students arrive. You’re almost there when you cross path with Jordan, responding to his smirk with a small nod, but it’s only once he’s passed you that he addresses you.

“Hey, Ms. K! Having computer problems again?”

You stop, turning around to look back at him, your face scrunched up in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant. He turned around to face you, walking backwards not looking where he’s going, as he gives you a cheeky smile and wiggles his eyebrows. Giving you an answer to your question before you have the time to voice it.

“Bumped into the computer nerd as I left class.” Is the explanation you get as he turns back around just in time to avoid colliding with someone. You roll your eyes and shake your head, both at his comment and near accident even though he can’t see you anymore, before finally making it to class.

You don’t know why Laura is here, but it’s certainly not because _you_ are having computer problems. You’ve actually been doing great since you met her, except that first time when Tim had unplugged your computer by mistake, which allowed you to run into her again. She’s been teaching you stuff from time to time. When something’s wrong, you text her to try to figure it out. She normally finds the problem in a few minutes and explain to you how to fix it, each saves her a trip to the school. That doesn’t mean that the other teachers don’t encounter a bunch of problems of their own, though.

Since most of the staff is either too old to understand how a computer works or too lazy to try to find a solution to their problems themselves, you’ve learned that Laura’s been around at least twice a month since September. For some reason, you just hadn’t run into her for the first few weeks of classes. Due to her frequent presence at school, the majority of your fellow teachers know the Cupcake by now. Since it’s Laura, you hadn’t been surprised when you heard some of the staff talk about how great she is, saving them more than once by fixing their computer or projector or whatever wasn’t working.

Unsurprisingly, your schedule for the day and the next is entirely filled with exams, the period about to start is no exception, making this one of the most boring week of the year. All you do is pass documents, before going over it with them and answering question if there’s any. You manage to get some work done this time around though, starting to correct the essays of your previous class. It’s progress at least. Before you feel the need to check the clock, the bell is ringing again, announcing lunch time.

You shoot Laura a text to know if she’s still at school and when you don’t immediately get a reply, you head once again to the staff lounge to wash your mug. The room is starting to get a little more crowded now that everyone’s on break, and you have to wait after one of the prehistoric teacher to use the sink. Both your hands are under the open tap, when you see Laura coming up next to you, lifting herself up to sit on the counter besides the sink.

“You asking me if I was still here, was your way to ask me to lunch, right?” She asks you with a cocky smile. Her legs swinging in the air as she looks at you, waiting for your answer.

You keep your eyes on the mug you’re washing, face serious before you say, “No, just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t run into you by accident.” You hear her let out an indignant sound, before you feel her slap your arm lightly. A smirk replaces your bored expression as you let out a soft chuckle. You turn your head to look at her, she’s trying her hardest to look mad at you, but you see the small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

You roll your eyes, turning the faucet off before facing her fully, one of your hips resting on the side of the counter as you dry your mug. You’re about to say something when you register that the room is much quieter than it should be by now. You look around you, noticing that every single teacher has stopped what they were doing to watch the two of you. You had been so caught up in your interaction with Laura, you hadn’t realized the sudden attention you both managed to draw.

You huff angrily, putting the mug down on the counter a little more loudly that you meant to, before crossing your arms over your chest and giving them a piercing look as you face them. Usually, when you give them one of your looks, it doesn’t take long before they leave you alone, but it doesn’t seem to be working this time.

It doesn’t take long when you’re working in a school, to notice teenagers love gossips. If someone discovers something in the morning, by the end of the day everybody knows about it. High school teachers are just as bad, if not worse than their students. And right now, you can see their eyes burning with questions and curiosity. It’s like they’re feeling the need to know everyone’s personal business, and they definitely won’t pass on a chance to learn about yours, the one who doesn’t speak, doesn’t share, who’s a mystery for all of them.

From your peripheral vision, you see Laura getting up from the counter to stand next to you. You feel her shoulder press against yours, and you have no idea if she does it on purpose or not, but either way, it manages to remove some of the tension your body is currently holding.

“You two know each other?” All eyes in the room turn to the teacher as he asks the question, before falling back on you and Laura, eager to hear your answers and gauge your reactions.

You roll your eyes at what might be one of the dumbest question you’ve ever heard. Everyone with functioning eyes can obviously see the two of you know each other. You wouldn’t be talking to Laura otherwise.

“Yes, I do know Laura, like most of you in this room right now. Which is normal since she’s basically the school’s IT.” You’re only telling a half truth, but that’s because you don’t want them to know anything that is not absolutely necessary for them to get off your case. They don’t need to know how close the both of you are exactly or how much time you spend together.

“I think what Mr. Johnson meant to express was how surprising it is that the two of you seem…  friendly, with each other.” Another teacher cuts in, you try to remember her name without much success, not that it’s important anyway.

“Yeah, we’re friends. I don’t see what would be surprising about that.” Laura answers this time, getting a little defensive and crossing her arms too.

“Well, you and Ms. Karnstein are quite different people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Cupcake says, taking a step forward, with a frown on her face.

“Hey there, Creampuff.” You say, extending an arm to place your hand on Laura’s forearm, trying to stop her. She turns to you, giving you an incredulous look, like she can’t believe you’re not reacting to this, not asking for any explication or justification. You both know what they mean, and some part of you can’t help but agree. Laura’s a good and wonderful person and of what they’ve seen, you, not so much. You’ve only let them see one side of you and it’s definitely not the same one she gets to see, even though she’s aware of how you typically are with people. They don’t really know you, and you don’t care what they think of you anyway, most of them are dimwits and you don’t have time to waste on them. Laura does seem to care about what they think though, or rather what they’re trying to imply.

“No. Carm. I genuinely want to know what they think is wrong with us being _so_ different and still wanting to be friends.” She says, not shrugging your hand off her arm, just waiting for you to let her do this and have her answer. You look at her and give her a small nod, which she seems to appreciate even though she definitely didn’t need it. You get a little closer to her, your hand still on her skin. In most situation, Laura seems to be having a calming effect on you, so you’re not about to let go of her now.

“You,” the same teacher says addressing Laura, “have a sunny personality. You have a way with people, you’re easy to talk to, it’s like you’re radiating happiness.” She gives Laura a smile, probably expecting the compliments to appease her. It doesn’t have the desired effect though, because Laura doesn’t talk nor move, only waiting for her to continue her explanation. The older woman lets out a small sigh, an unpleased frown forming on her face as she understands that she has to keep going. She gives you a furtive look, before bringing her eyes back to Laura again. “Ms. Karnstein is very different. Easily irritated, impatient, snappy, sarcastic. I believe those are the words to best describe her. Your personalities couldn’t be more opposite.”

You feel Laura’s muscles tense under your hand and you can see her hands bunch up into fists as the teacher describes you. She’s now full on glaring at the woman standing in front of you. You’ve never seen Laura being mad at anyone before, but one thing is clear, you don’t ever want to be on the receiving end of her anger. You squeeze her arm softly, thinking the gesture might calm her down, but it only seems to make her angrier as she’s reminded of your presence in the room.

“I understand that you and I have an extremely different vision of Carmilla. She chooses who she shows her complete personality to really carefully. I have the chance to be one of those very limited number of people. And even though she puts a lot of effort in having her façade and guard up at all time in this place, it sometimes slips when she’s around people that matters to her. I’m sure you’ve all witness it at least once, either while she was speaking to one of her students or when her son was around. This means that you are all aware there is more to her than what you see every day, and it’s unfair of you to reduce her only to what _you_ experienced. It’s not because she doesn’t share a part of her personality with you that suddenly, this huge chunk of who she is doesn’t exist anymore. You really think her students would care about her as much as they do, and you know they do, if she acted the same way she does with you? I don’t think so. But the thing that really pisses me off is how you believe you have any right to question _our_ friendship. _I_ get to decide who is worth my time, no matter how different that person is from me.”

Laura finally seems to be done and you’re stun into silence at how passionate she was about your relationship, and well, you. You hadn’t expected her to make a speech that big, and you’re apparently not the only one. If you’d take a look at the room, you would probably see the teachers watching Laura, mouths wide open.

Before you have time to fully assimilate everything she just said, she grabs your hand, calling out a “Come on Carm, let’s go get lunch!” before dragging you out the door. You only make it a few steps down the hallway, when she suddenly stops, letting go of your hand before whirling around quickly, walking back to the staff room.

“Just to make sure that someone actually tells you this, Carmilla Karnstein is a wonderful person and most of you probably don’t even deserve to actually know her, anyway!” Before you have the time to react to Laura’s absence, you’re back with her hand in yours, as she says, “Now, I’m ready to go!” and she’s walking you down the hall to get both of your stuff.

* * *

 

“So, is Tim excited about not going to kindergarten for a week?” Laura asks you, much too cheerily.

“Laura…” The two of you didn’t say a word the whole walk to the diner, Laura walking so fast down the street, you had trouble keeping up with her. Now, you’re sitting opposite one another with a table separating the two of you and it’s like she’s transformed into an extra happy version of herself. “Is this really how we’re gonna do this?”

“What are you talking about?” Laura counters, the smile plastered on her face diminishing slightly.

“We’re just gonna pretend like what went down in the teachers’ room never happened?”

This makes her smile disappear completely, her shoulders sag a little as she drops her gaze to the table. “I want us to have a nice lunch, that’s all.” She says in a small voice.

“So faking, and acting like everything is fine is the solution here?” You ask, looking at her expectantly. She still doesn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on trying to remove a small stain from the table, even though it’s probably been there for years. “We should talk about it now, once that’s done, I won’t bring it up again if you don’t want me to.” You say kindly, as you place your hand over the one relentlessly rubbing the stain. Her hand freezes and her gaze is on yours instantly. You take that has your cue to start the discussion.

“You know you didn’t have to do what you did, right? You didn’t have to defend me.” You say earnestly. The last thing you want is Laura feeling like she has to stand up for you. You’re responsible for the things you do and say, for how you act. She isn’t.

“Are you kidding? Of course I had to!” Just like that the Laura you’re used to is back. “You weren’t even going to say anything, someone had to. There was no way in Hell of Hogwarts I was going to let them talk about you that way, they don’t know you like I do. Besides, if the situation had been reversed, if they had been saying those things about me, you wouldn’t have hesitated even for a second to intervene. It’s only fair that I would do the same.” She says looking at you intensely, like she’s daring you to say something to contradict her.

“Yeah, well, if anyone had said something like that about you, it would have been a complete lie anyway, so…” You try to justify your ‘hypothetical’ intervention, not wanting to admit you would jump in in any situation where someone would say a bad thing about Laura. Unless she didn’t need help defending herself, of course. She gives you a look, clearly unimpressed by your explanation.

“What they said about you isn’t true either.” You raise an eyebrow at her. “Okay, maybe some of it is true, but it’s not okay for them to reduce you to that! Plus, if it makes you feel better, that speech wasn’t all about you. I already have my Dad telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. I really don’t need an entire group of people who think they know better, telling me who I shouldn’t be friends with.” You nod your head once to show your understanding, and that apparently marks the end of the conversation.

“Now,” She says, her genuine enthusiasm back, “can we order and eat, please? I’m really hungry and you’re kind of on a schedule here!”

“Like you’re not always hungry.” You say, teasing her, the smile only a few people can get out of you back on your face. She rolls her eyes, throwing a small packet of sugar at you, a smile playing on her lips. You get interrupted a few seconds later by the waitress coming over.

* * *

 

“Did you need to go back inside?” You ask Laura as the two of you reach the school. She shakes her head.

“No, I was done over there for the day. Fixed everything that needed fixing.” She says giving you a smile as you both stop on the sidewalk in front of the building. “Which is a good thing I guess, considering how things turned out.”

“See you tomorrow then.” You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around her, before her own circle your shoulders, bringing the two of you closer. You stay in this position for a while, enjoying the warmth radiating from her small body as you try to convey how much her caring about you means to you. You finally let her go and you see in her eyes she understood what you were trying to show with the gesture. She gives you a bright smile, leaning in to place a soft kiss of your cheek. She squeezes your forearms before detaching herself from you completely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell Timothy I said ‘Hi!’” She says, giving you one last smile before she crosses the street.

Once Laura’s gone, you walk to the building’s front doors, managing to get to your classroom at the same time as the bell announces the start of classes. A few seconds after you’ve shed your coat and started to write on the black board, your students begin to pile in. You still have your back to them when you hear a very distinct voice addressing you.

“Yo, Ms. K! We heard shit went down in the teachers’ lounge at lunch. Do you know what happened?” Jordan asks, as the rest of the students quieten to hear what you’re gonna say.

“Laura decided to lash out on some teachers that were making assumptions about me and were trying to get involved in things that didn’t concern them.”

“Damn! Didn’t know the nerd had it in her! You know we’ve got your back though, right? We won’t let those other teachers say bad stuff about you.” You turn around as he speaks, facing your class. You see the group of teenagers nodding and hear them voice their agreement at the last part of his speech.

You feel like you just got hit by a bus. You do really care about your students, even if you won’t admit it. It shows when you interact with them, especially one on one. You get the chance to truly listen to them and understand who they are. If they come to you with a problem, you do everything that is in your power to support and help them. You would have never imagined they would care about you enough to defend you to your own colleagues, just like you sometimes do for them. Contradicting one of the teacher’s view of your students often ends up in an argument. Them doing the same for you can easily get them in trouble. You really appreciate the gesture. The moment is interrupted before things can get too serious though.

“So, are you and Laura together yet? ‘Cause I can totally give you dating advices!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it?
> 
> I have no idea when the next update is gonna be, but it probably won't be next week, so you guys enjoy Act III. 
> 
> If you want to talk to me about literally anything, you can find me at carelloue.tumblr.com.
> 
> Hope you all have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> You can come talk to me on tumblr if you feel like it: carelloue


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